


You Will (Not) Release

by devilbabycryman



Series: You Can (Not) Connect [3]
Category: Neon Genesis Evangelion
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Mecha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-10-27 04:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 36,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10801572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilbabycryman/pseuds/devilbabycryman
Summary: Shinji is a college student on a full-ride scholarship provided from NERV, his father's auspicious research facility. All he has to do is maintain a good GPA, live within a strict monthly budget, and participate in a research study he knows nothing about. As time goes on, the "research" gets weirder, and Shinji learns things about his father's work he never wanted to know.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly headcanon stuff combining elements of the original show, End of Evangelion, and the Evangelion Rebuilds. Thanks for reading.

I stuffed my headphones into my ears immediately upon leaving campus. This was the customary first step in my journey to the train station, and by far the most important. I was bound by obligation to make frequent trips between my university campus in Tokyo, and my father's research facility in Hakone, and I had a strict ritual for the occasion.

Always, before anything else, I turned on my cassette player. I only had one cassette: a hand recorded mix of songs arranged in a specific order that made sense to me in high school. Many of these songs were from the same album, I just felt that they sounded better in a different order, interspersed with other songs that I liked.

That particular order never stopped making sense, so I never stopped listening to it.

I started on "Blue Legend", which was the twenty-fifth track. While the song played, I pulled a sandwich from my left cardigan pocket: one of the prepackaged triangle-cut chicken sandwiches from the campus store. It only cost three hundred yen after tax, so it was my go-to lunch when trying to save money. Sometimes I would pay the extra one sixty if I wanted strawberries and cream too.

By the end of the next track, I made it through the station entrance. When I was a certain distance from the ticket machine, my hand went for my wallet in my back pocket. I retrieved my ticket and boarded the train with "Ode to Joy" pouring into my ears.

I skipped ahead a few songs until I reached "Both Hands Full of Dreams", and played that on repeat through the first leg of the ride. I was always thankful that I traveled most of the way alone. It allowed for ample time to decompress before being picked up in Hakone, which was crucial for my mental state.

In times like this, I often went on autopilot. In a pretty serious sense of the word.

Going on autopilot for me usually looked like doing things without thinking and returning to myself in the middle of doing them. At one point during the train ride, for instance, I returned to myself in the middle of eating my strawberry cream sandwich. I couldn't remember having eaten the chicken, but I must have because I never ate the strawberry sandwich first. Sure enough, when I checked my pockets, all that remained of the chicken sandwich was a crumpled wrapper.

I felt a bit more relaxed by that point in the ride, and ate my sandwich more consciously while watching the announcement marquee. I was already on the Tokaido line headed, which meant I had also made a transfer while relatively unconscious. I wasn't freaking out about it, though. At least I had gotten on the right train.

I waited upon finishing my sandwich until my stop was announced. My cassette player looped through "Fly Me To The Moon".

I checked my phone when I stepped off of the train; it was 6:03 pm and my roommate had sent me three text messages. I had some idea of what they might say--probably something about sharing notes for class, or a reminder not to sleep in too late the next day--and didn't really want to be bothered with it. It was better to forget about any texts or calls anyway, since I would have to give up my phone at the facility.

I walked off of the terminal and exited the station, glancing around for my ride. One of my dad's coworkers always met me at the station to drive me out to the actual facility, which was located in some valley about fifty kilometers outside of the city.

As predicted, several sharp honks came from a royal blue sports car parked off to the side. Even as I walked toward it, three more honks were belted out in quick succession, and I could see the woman inside chuckling. She always did that because she thought it was funny, and I wondered if that bit would ever get old for her.

"Good evening, Mr. Ikari." She said facetiously after I opened the passenger's side door, kissing me on the cheek. Her hair was tied back in a long ponytail, and her outfit for that day consisted of small hoop earrings and a black leather dress. Pretty dressed up for a work day; I guessed that she was either coming from or going to a date at some point.

"Hi, Misato." I said. Even though she was in the way of me putting my seatbelt on, I resisted the urge to swat her away.

Misato giggled to herself at my obvious discomfort, revving the car's engine and peeling off from the station. Ahead of us was still a thirty minute drive, during which I would be subjected to her usual small talk.

"How's school going?" She asked, like always.

"It's okay." I said.

"Grades looking good?"

"The semester just started, so I can't really say. We haven't had any graded assignments yet."

"Ah, that's right. I keep forgetting you're not in high school anymore."

"I've been out of high school for awhile."

"What are you, like, eighteen?"

"I'm going to be twenty next month, Misato. I've told you three times."

"Yeesh, where does the time go? You're practically an adult now. Pretty cute too, now that you're past that weird gangly phase."

"Misato, please."

"And don't think I didn't notice that you're growing your hair out. How long's it been since you had a haircut? Probably getting all crazy with your hair now that you've graduated high school. I bet it's nice not having a dress code."

"What? That's...stupid. I just...haven't cut it in awhile, that's all."

"Aw, it's not stupid. I hear that kind of style is really popular with college guys. Reminds me of that one rockstar, um...damn, what's his name..."

"My hair isn't even that long, thou--"

"Ah, it's on the tip of my tongue. Bet you I'll remember it randomly later on, like in the middle of a meeting or something." She wasn't even listening to me at that point, just rambling on with whatever came to mind. "I like it, though. I'm gonna have to make a move on you one of these days."

"Please stop."

That would always make her laugh, even though the joke was pretty old by that point. I was used to her hitting on me, but occasionally she pulled it out in some inventive new way that I hadn't built up a response for. Her come-ons didn't make me as uncomfortable as the first time she started them, but I was never fully okay.

Once her laughter died down, a few moments would pass in silence--usually filled by her turning on the radio or fiddling with the aux cord.

"So," Her tone becoming solemn when she spoke again. It always did that right before she mentioned my dad. "I heard he's going to be there today."

"I know. Dr. Akagi told me during my last appointment." Nothing in my tone betrayed any feeling one way or another, which usually meant I was struggling with several feelings at once.

"You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"He won't come to see me. He'll just watch from his office or the command center, same as always. I'll be fine."

Misato went quiet, as she always did when I reminded her how terrible my relationship was with my dad.

"We'll be there in about ten minutes."

"Okay."

"We'll be there in ten minutes," Was her way of saying, "I'll leave you alone now. Enjoy the silence while you can." I always appreciated that.

I turned my cassette player back on and stuffed the headphones in my ears. It felt as if all of the decompressing I had done during the train ride evaporated in that instant. Which was normal.

 

After ten minutes on the dot, we entered a tunnel that lead to the research facility. It stretched on for several more minutes and emptied into a dark, abyssal car-train. Even with the windows up, I could hear the cacophony of heavy machinery grinding around us. I couldn't see any of it, though, because the only light came from small bulbs lining the path on which we drove.

I turned my phone off, emptied the contents of my pockets, removed my NERV ID from my wallet, and rested everything in my lap. We would be approaching a security guard soon, and it was easier to have my things ready to hand off by the time we got to them.

Misato drove up to an entrance where a tiny guard box stood off to the side. It had one of those automated plastic arms that went up way too slowly, and would have probably snapped off if anyone decided to drive right through.

We presented our IDs to the guard, and the little plastic arm lifted up to let us through. Several feet down from the first guard box was second one, slightly smaller, but with a fully automated gate a little taller than Misato's car. There, we dropped off our phones, wallets, and other loose items with a different guard. That guard would disappear in turn, and the metal gate would slide open slowly to let us trough. A short drive farther, and Misato slowed to halt onto a platform that connected us to the car train. Once we were situated on the platform, the car train chugged to life and ferried us deeper down into the darkness.

NERV Headquarters, on the surface, was a colossal pyramid with a shining, glassy surface. It looked like a monolith, just as sterile and imposing on the outside as it was labyrinthine and endless on the inside. Anyone unaccustomed to being there would be swallowed up by it just trying to make their way around. The winding hallways and metal doors acted as a passive security system, on top of the hundreds of guards and thousands of surveillance devices throughout the building. An unwelcome stranger could wander for hours and hours, never to come across a single living soul unless they knew where to go.

I was hopelessly lost for my first few visits. Even when accompanied by Misato, the place felt infused with my father's presence. It was as if he had turned himself into a building, and I always felt trapped in the moment I entered. As I learned where I should and shouldn't be, it became easier to  follow directions and stay close to whoever was guiding me. Much like dealing with my father it was all about staying in line, keeping my head down, and never venturing where I wasn't given explicit permission to go.

Upon leaving the car, we made our way through the garage and into an elevator. We rode it to a lower basement floor; there were dozens of lower floors, as the building was built downward and all of its facilities were below the surface. Once we stepped off the elevator, Misato tapped her keycard at the first door we approached, and it slid open with the dull scraping of metal on metal.

I followed after her, my pitiable steps muted by the sharp clicks of her heels. For all of her stupid jokes and sloppy nature, Misato's footsteps were strict enough to rival a metronome, especially as she trudged through the NERV's hallways.

"Here we are." She said as she tapped her ID card on one of a row of electronic terminals, much like the ticket takers at the train station. I followed suit and stepped forward, clutching the strap of my bag expectantly as I already knew what to do.

"You'll be with Dr. Akagi today, as usual. She's waiting for you in Terminal Room A by the lobby."

"Okay."

"I'll be overseeing a portion of your test and taking care of some paperwork in the meantime. If you need me, just holler at Dr. Akagi through the intercom and she'll make sure I get the message."

"Okay." I glanced off impatiently toward the lobby.

"I'll meet you back here when it's time to go, okay?"

"Got it. See you later, Misato."

"See ya, Shinji." Misato waved me off and directed her purposeful steps toward a large door that required a different keycard from the one I was allowed to have. I passed through the lobby into an adjoining room. Even from outside the glass door, I could hear the air humming with idle processors from several computer terminals.

Dr. Akagi was sitting in the corner of the room, typing rapidly on one of the keyboards with a cigarette dangling from her lips. I cleared my throat so that I didn't cough from the smoke smell. She was so absorbed in her work that she didn't react to me walking in.

I didn't mind; she was usually absorbed in something or another when I arrived. I sat down quietly to wait until she reached a stopping point. While I waited, I couldn't help noticing her hair; she had touched up the roots so they weren't brown anymore, and the cut was drastically shorter.

"I'll be with you in just a moment, Shinji." Dr. Akagi said without looking up or even so much as pausing in her typing.

"No problem." I responded, unusually fixated on her new haircut. Uncertainly, I cleared my throat again and said, "I, um...I like your hair, Dr. Akagi."

"Thank you. My hair was completely botched by a new stylist during my last appointment. I went back earlier today and my usual girl recommended a 'pixie cut'. She said it suited my face shape." She spoke in a monotone that was often impenetrable, but I could tell by a tiny lilt in her voice that she was flattered.

"Are you going to keep it like that?"

"Probably. I'm starting to like it, and it's pretty low maintenance in the morning." Dr. Akagi stopped typing for a moment to tap her cigarette on a metal ashtray beside her. At this point, she wheeled her chair around to face me and crossed her legs. "The new lab assistant told me she liked it, too. That's three or four compliments on it so far, counting you. I've never been so popular with young people."

I smiled and coughed involuntarily. She took one last drag of her cigarette and put it out in the ashtray.

"We can get started early today, if you'd like." She said, standing from her chair and slipping her hands into the pockets of her lab coat.

"Oh. Great." I sighed.

"I never grow weary of your enthusiasm, Shinji." Dr. Akagi smiled, and I blushed in spite of myself. In hindsight, I felt a little rude for being so sarcastic all the time. She was very good at making me feel guilty for things like that, whether she meant to or not.

Dr. Akagi walked toward the sliding doors and I stood up to follow her. Her footsteps were much softer and more relaxed than Misato's, which came as a surprise the first time I noticed, since she tended to be a lot more serious than Misato.

"You seem to be in a good mood today, Shinji." She commented offhandedly as we walked through the lobby and a hallway off to the side. "Your harmonics will probably reflect that during the tests."

"If you say so. Those harmonics feel pretty arbitrary to me most of the time."

"With the sync ratios we see from other test subjects, one might think it is."

"Is that actually the case, or does it just seem that way?"

"The subject's mood is one of many variables that can contribute to a favorable sync ratio. Only a handful of those variables are consistent enough to recognize, and even those aren't empirical. It's almost as if the ratio depends more on the proxy's feelings than the subject's."

"Oh."

"That's how it is when embarking down highly experimental paths in neuroscience. Things just don't make sense until they do, all at once."

I just hummed. I never knew how to respond when her explanations went over my head, and often got away with no response at all. I don't think she ever expected me to understand her.

After walking for some time, we proceeded through a small, sterile hallway that I was very well acquainted with. It was illuminated by fluorescent lights bouncing off of linoleum in a bright, sea foam green that always made my head hurt a little. At the end of the hallway was a bright room with a large white capsule at the center of it. The room was empty of furnishings except for this capsule and a small metal table near a recessed closet in the corner.

Dr. Akagi let me enter the room first, then came in behind me and closed the door. She walked over to the closet and pressed on the door to open it. Inside was a folded wet suit garment with two plastic clips nestled on top. I knew the procedure by this point, and sat down on the capsule while she retrieved everything I would need from the closet.

"One of my roommates is a science fanboy, if you can believe that." I said, interrupting the silence that fell as she rummaged through the items.

"What do you mean?" She asked me idly, leaning against the table and looking over a clipboard in her hand.

"He's really into my dad's work. I mean, he's into military science stuff in general since that's his major, but especially my dad's work. He went a little nuts when he found out who I was."

"You know how your father would react if he found out you were sharing NERV information with your classmates, Shinji." She warned gently, scribbling on the clipboard before setting it down.

"I didn't tell him anything, he figured it out by my last name," I said, scoffing a little. "He knows more about NERV's work than I do, honestly. He kept going on about advanced neuroscience and the 'Human Instrument Project' or whatever. All kinds of stuff I don't even know about."

"How would he know about that?"

"Apparently his dad is one of the lab techs in Matsushiro."

"I see. What's his name?"

"My roommate? Kensuke Aida."

"Aida...hm," By her tone, I couldn't tell if she recognized the name or not. "I suppose even without familial connections to the organization, it isn't uncommon for a science major to idolize an accomplished scientist."

"He was talking about my dad the way most people talk about pop idols."

She chuckled at this. "Dr. Ikari could be considered like a pop idol to some of his colleagues."

"It was creepy."

"I am sure your father sees it that way, too. He certainly doesn't like it."

"...Yeah, I guess."

Dr. Akagi walked over to me and leaned forward, attaching the plastic clips to my head. They felt like suction cups latching onto and taking root in my scalp. It never really hurt much, it just felt weird for a few moments.

"Your hair is getting long." She said, pressing small buttons on the headsets.

"Misato said the same thing earlier. Then started hitting on me again." I rolled my eyes, slouching a bit as Dr. Akagi configured the headsets. It was always oddly relaxing when she did this part, even though being so close to someone always made me prickle with discomfort.

"I think it suits you."

"Thanks. I prefer that to the way she said it."

"Interface Headsets are attached. Please change into your plugsuit and enter the Test Capsule as soon as you are ready." Dr. Akagi switched effortlessly back to her clinician's tone, which should have been expected. In our little exchange I had forgotten that we were still just doctor and patient, not friends.

I nodded and scratched at my scalp where the Headsets were situated, waiting patiently for her to leave. She busied herself with scribbling on her clipboard and tapping buttons on the capsule's side panel to ensure everything was functioning properly. Once she was finished, she exited the room through a door opposite the entrance.

I exhaled, finally, and stood up to unbutton my shirt. Even though I was alone in the room, I knew that Dr. Akagi and a whole team of scientists I had never met could see everything I was doing. Behind one of the walls was a double-sided panel that gave a small Command Center full view to the room. I had never been inside it, but they occasionally turned off the opacity of that wall to speak to me, so I knew it was there even if I couldn't remember where.

Besides that, the room was covered in cameras that I could and couldn't see. There was nary a corner in whole building free from watchful eyes, which meant that even as I undressed, I had no privacy. Still, it was easier to ignore when I couldn't see the eyes that were upon me. I was only naked for a moment anyway; I always slid into the rubbery plugsuit as quickly as possible after undressing. Once the loose fabric was nestled on awkwardly on my frame, I secured it with the button releases at each wrist; this was a way of making the previously over-sized suit shrink around me, vacuum sealing it with a short puff of air.

"I'm gonna get in now." I said loudly to the room, even though they already knew that.

I leaned over the capsule and pressed a large button to open the door. A smooth panel pushed up from the middle and slid back to reveal a glowing blue interior. With a yawn, I climbed inside and leaned back into the soft leather chair that made up the majority of the inside. As I sat back, I pressed a button on the side panel and watched as the door eased closed above me.

"Preparing connection to the hydro-transmission system," Dr. Akagi's voice came in close to my ear, funneled directly through the interior of the Test Capsule. "Remember to take deep breaths, Shinji."

"I know." The door slid shut completely, and for a moment there was nothing but silence. Literally nothing. I hated that silence, because it was thicker and more complete than any other silence I had ever experienced anywhere else. It was so devoid of noise that I could hear my own organs churning in my body, and the blood rushing through my eardrums and behind my eyes. The groaning biomass of my whole self was deafening and no matter how many times I sat in it, it was never long enough to get used to. Those few seconds of self-awareness were torture, and I was equipped with no coping mechanism to make them less so.

Soon enough, the whir of machinery powering up filled the capsule. I exhaled the breath I didn't know I was holding, and relished in the presence of any sound outside of myself. The whirring was followed by a gurgling sound that grew steadily louder. A hiss filled the space around me, and I knew this was the last bit of outside air being forced out of the chamber.

"LCL direct transmission system initiated. Filling the Test Capsule now."

A churning liquid slightly thicker than water crawled up my feet and legs rapidly, bubbling as it sloshed around the capsule. It covered my knees, then my thighs and stomach, chugged up my chest and neck, then immersed my chin, mouth, nose, ears and eyes. I made a conscious effort to hold my breath this time, my head and the remaining space were both covered with liquid.

"Test Capsule is connected to the main proxy. LCL ionization will begin momentarily. Deep breaths, Shinji."

Before Dr. Akagi had even said so, I inhaled a large gulp of the liquid. It rushed into my mouth and up my nose, slid down my windpipe, through my lungs, then settled heavily in my blood.

I knew the procedure when it came to breathing LCL. Dr. Akagi explained it to me, after I had a panic attack the first time and disrupted the whole test.

She said that since breathing liquid, as a concept, was an oxymoron, the body often wanted to reject it on reflex. Everything in the human mind tells it that breathing liquid is not normal or good, so it wants to expel the liquid an find air again. I had to breathe in and swallow it down at the same time, forcing it into my lungs faster than my esophagus could regurgitate it. I would have to do this several times, deeply and quickly, for it to be effective. To keep myself from panicking, I always ran through the steps one by one in my head as it began.

First came the feeling of suffocating; my body immediately tensed up with the urge to vomit the sludge. I wasn't actually suffocating, since oxygen was still getting to my blood and brain, but I had to actively tell my body to wait, and not vomit. Please don't vomit, because that is always messy and inconvenient, and I'd have to sit in it until they drain the capsule and force me to start over. I fought the nausea with a few thick coughs, and kept drinking LCL in huge gulps.

Next came the fight for oxygen; The LCL was dumping it into my blood, but it took awhile to circulate. I had to exhale as slowly and deeply as possible, to purge my lungs of residual carbon dioxide and to facilitate this more clumsy breathing cycle. I watched the bubbles leave my mouth and drift up into a vent above me that filtered out the waste in my lungs. Another deep breath, and the fluid would go down much easier, I told myself. Just tough it out and it'll become effortless.

Sure enough, with the right amount of patience, my throat stopped twitching and I was once more in control of my breath. I cleared my throat and was able to settle down within a few seconds.

"Your pulse is stabilizing much more quickly than usual. I can see you're getting used to this."

Dr. Akagi was trying to make a joke, but I was still a too shaken up to find it very funny. I managed a weary chuckle just for the sound, but couldn't really muster a smile.

"Commencing secondary contact. A-10 proxy connection successful."

Unlike every other step of the process, I couldn't even guess at what that meant because there was no corroborating stimulus for it. There was no liquid rushing into the capsule, or sensor popping up showing numbers I could read.

Despite not feeling it in a tangible sense, I somehow still knew it was happening. Whatever it was, this "secondary contact",I could feel it right as Dr. Akagi described it, or sometimes beforehand. The LCL enveloping me would smell, for a split second, like rusty iron or a bag of wet coins. The skin of my neck prickled all the way up to the base of my skull, and the bone felt as if it was vibrating very slightly.

It was such a tiny feeling that I used to chalk it up to a twitch or involuntary response, but it was consistent enough that I noticed it happen a lot during that part of the process. If I had to put the feeling into words, I could say it was a lot like something crawling into my brain. Not the actual physical mass of it, but in my thoughts or my subconscious. That didn't make any sense though, even to myself, so I never told anyone about it.

"Proxy connection is stable and preliminary contacts have been established. Opening Bidirectional circuits. Initial Synchronization rate, taken at 18h30, 43 seconds after preliminary contacts: 46.3%. Good so far, Shinji."

I opened my eyes. Illuminating the darkened interior of the Test Capsule were hundreds of incomprehensible numbers, beeping monitors, and code that matched my pulse and other readouts. With the way the capsule encompassed me from front to back, the glowing blue numbers against the deep darkness looked and felt like an abyss. It was as if the boundary that made up the capsule walls had disappeared, and I was the only human thing floating in a void of random symbols. The only thing that kept me grounded to any sort of reality was my grip on two sensory bars at my fingertips and the feeling of my thighs against the soft leather chair, but only when I moved. Part of me always wanted to let go of the bars to feel if the walls were still there, but I was too afraid of finding out that they weren't. And anyway, I was supposed to sit as still as possible, making sure to keep my hands on the sensory bars.

Dr. Akagi's voice interjected every so often to remind me that I wasn't alone in the universe, though it didn't really make things feel any different.

"Secondary Synchronization rate, taken three minutes and 17 seconds after preliminary contacts: 45.8%."

"Dr. Akagi?" I said, glancing around the codes and monitors until my eyes fixed on the SOUND ONLY screen at the corner of my vision.

"Yes, Shinji?"

"You mentioned there were other participants in these studies, right?"

"That's right."

"How many are there?"

"The number changes based on compatibility and changes in data collected, and the turnover is quite high. Currently there are four, including you."

"Oh...okay." I paused, hoping she would help me segue into my real question. She was silent, however, so I continued on. "How does my sync ratio compare to theirs?"

"That also depends. As I told you before, the results are seemingly random without the right discerning eye and constant assessment and minimization of variable factors."

Just as she was starting to lose me with the technobabble, she stated more plainly, "You are doing quite well lately, in my opinion. Tertiary Synchronization rate, taken 7 minutes and 16 seconds after preliminary contacts, 62.2%. That's a record for you so far."

"Oh, cool." Even though I had asked, I could only manage a tepid response to the number. It didn't feel like much of an accomplishment, since I had no idea what it meant.

It was all the same to me, sitting in that whirring tube and exhaling bubbles into a vent. Part of me hoped that hearing praise would make it feel more worthwhile, but it was no different.

"Can my dad hear this?" I said, after we had lapsed into another silence. "Hear me right now, I mean. In the Test Capsule."

Dr. Akagi didn't answer as quickly this time. I had a feeling she was looking for the right way to tell me that he could always hear everything, and this time wasn't special. Either that, or she was silently confirming with him whether letting me know was a wise thing to do or not.

"...Dr. Ikari has access to the audio feeds collected from active Test Capsules and Entry Plugs, yes. Whether or not he is listening to us right now, I cannot be certain."

"Okay." She did that pretty well, which wasn't too surprising. Dr. Akagi was always good at phrasing things as diplomatically as possible, without having to lie. I almost wanted to commend her for it.

"Final Synchronization rate, read 18h46, is at 49.9%. EUA-proxy Synchronization Harmonics Tests are now complete. You're all done in there for today, Shinji."

"Okay."

"Draining the capsule of LCL. Reintroduction of atmospheric gas to tidal volume will commence shortly."

I listened to the slog of liquid being drained from the chamber while the blue overhead light faded in and the numbers all disappeared. Once the LCL had drained from the Capsule down past my ears, a stream of gas entered in its place so that I wasn't caught in a vacuum. I forced out each breath and purged my lungs of the remaining fluid. It felt like the vomiting I tried so hard to resist earlier, but more controlled and with a churning in my chest rather than my stomach. A few coughs would usually drain out the last globules, and I would be back to breathing regular air in a few moments. The blue light inside phased through a prism of colors as the capsule was deactivated. After that, the door slid open and the remaining LCL that clung to me would be blasted into a dense vapor. By the time I stepped out, I felt the way dry-cleaned clothes would if they could feel anything. It was a much cleaner feeling than when I originally stepped in, anyway.

"You may proceed to the evaluation room whenever you're ready, Shinji." Dr. Akagi announced over the PA system.

Once dressed, I left the white room and walked back through the green hallway. Leaving the LCL-filled capsule in favor of walking around in regular air felt like passing between worlds, which was often disorienting. I was glad for that hallway; it acted as an intermediary between the floating abyss of the Test Capsule and of the outside world. If not for that space, I would probably give myself the bends being dumped out into the cavernous lobby where Misato had left me before.

Across the lobby was another hallway that led to a smaller room, bathed again in fluorescent white lights but furnished with a black conference table and several chairs. Dr. Akagi was waiting for me there, seated comfortably in one of the chairs with a clipboard in her hand.

"You did very well today, Shinji." She said, offering me a warm smile.

"Thanks." I spoke groggily, put off by the sound of my own voice in open air. "I don't really feel a difference between the good and bad days, though."

"That seems to be common. Synchronization ratios resonate on frequencies a few levels below ordinary human consciousness. We've been able to pin that area as being somewhere between the conscious and subconscious mind, though that also seems to vary in many cases." She mused, flipping through papers on the clipboard and scribbling some things quickly.

"Okay." I watched her write, vaguely annoyed by the fact that she always seemed to be scribbling something even before I had answered any questions.

"How are you enjoying university so far?" There was always at least one question for subterfuge, to get me in a certain mindset. The subterfuge question was not so much about what I answered as _how_ I answered.

"It's okay." I offered, dimly. "I'm starting to get used to it."

"University is very different from high school."

"Yeah, it is."

There was a pause. Dr. Akagi kept writing. I could hear ticking but didn't see a clock anywhere in the room. She may have been tapping something with her foot. Either way, I was getting edgy.

"How do you like your roommates?" She asked.

"They're okay. The one I told you about is the friendlier one. He's very talkative."

"I imagine that's not easy to deal with for you."

"It's not hard. It just gets tiring sometimes."

"How has your anxiety been lately?"

"Are we using the scale, or should I ballpark it?" I responded, leaning back in my chair and looking down at my lap. I liked it better when we used the scale. I preferred, in general, when she asked me direct questions that I could respond to with direct answers. Walking out of these evaluations without knowing how much information I had actually given her was a very uncomfortable feeling.

"You can use the scale, if that makes it easier." She said.

"Six."

"That's an improvement from last time. Have you made any friends?"

"Just Kensuke, so far. Sort of."

"Kensuke is the talkative roommate, correct? The one whose father works in Matsushiro."

"Yeah, the fanboy. He and Toji are really the only one's I've talked to."

"And Toji is...?"

"My other roommate."

"Mm." By her temperate reaction, I had a feeling that she already knew that somehow. She moved on to the next question, "Have you found any extracurricular activities?"

"Sort of. One of my classes is also a club, so that probably counts."

"Do you feel like it counts?"

"I...don't know?" I sighed, growing weary of this already.

"Have you had any significant depressive spells since our last appointment?"

"Not really." Though that would depend on one's definition of significant.

"Any suicidal thoughts or intent?"

"No."

"Any significant decrease in your ability to function or accomplish everyday tasks?"

"No." Though that would depend on one's definition of significant.

"How would you rate your overall level of comfort on a scale of one to ten? One being the most comfortable, and ten being the least."

"What did I say last time?"

"Hmm," she flipped a few pages back on her clipboard and paused for a moment before responding. "You were at a nine during your last evaluation."

"Let's go with...I dunno, a four."

"Okay," She said slowly, still staring at the clipboard and just scribbling up a storm. I knew that was another subterfuge question, so it didn't matter how I answered. The number was always ten in my head, of course, but I threw out random numbers whenever I was too tired to take it seriously. Four seemed like a good one for today. It didn't matter. I was quiet but Dr. Akagi kept scribbling, scribbling scribbling. I was oddly agitated. I folded my hands in my lap to keep from snatching the clipboard and tossing it at the window. For some reason, I thought about her cigarette from earlier, and wondered if it was still in the ashtray.

"Alright, I think that will do for today, Shinji."

"Okay." I said, standing up quickly.

"Also, your father asked me to relay a message," she said, seemingly as an afterthought. "He expressed his regret at being unable to visit you personally during today's sync test, and wanted me to tell you hello."

"Okay." I was already heading toward the door.

"See you again in a few days, Shinji."

"Bye, Dr. Akagi." I let the door fall closed behind me and walked out through the hallway toward the lobby. Misato was waiting for me there, playing with her phone. When I approached, she turned and smiled at me with a thumbs up. I figured this gesture was to congratulate me on my test. I nodded and sort of smiled back.

As we walked toward the exit, I glanced back at the lobby and its various branching hallways. I had never been down many of them despite my frequent visits, and wondered if they all ended in white chambers with white capsules. If they all housed people that were monitored in pools of breathable liquid that smelled like iron and made them want to vomit. I thought to ask Misato about it, but I was too tired. She might have dodged the question anyway, or not known the answer herself.

I reached in my pocket for my cassette player, forgetting for a moment that I didn't have it on me. I withdrew my hand when I remembered.


	2. 2

I met Kensuke the first time I overslept.

It was the first day of school, actually. I had spent the first half of that day scrambling around trying not to be late, drained from jogging across campus from class to class. Even without the physical exertion, I had endured four hours of intensive Biology, and I've never had much of a mind for science. I was exhausted, and decided had a break between second period and fourth period was more than reasonable. Just a little nap.

I woke up panicking an hour and a half later, though, to the screaming beep of my alarm. It always terrified me a little when it went off, even when I used it in high school. The sound alone sent me back to that time of my life before I was fully awake, and remembered where I was. After the initial panic, I just felt fuzzy and irritated squinting at the clock beside me. Its blinking numbers showed 12:20; twenty minutes later than the original time I had set. In my stupor, I must have snoozed it twice, or simply slept through it enough that it snoozed itself. One of my roommates lay curled up in his bed when I got up, so still that I wondered if he was dead.

There was no time to check though, because I was going to be late for class.

I sprang out of bed and grabbed my backpack, thankful that I had at least set out my materials before falling asleep. I left several seconds later, practically tumbling out of the room in a frenzy. If I was fast, I could make it within fifteen minutes and not be late. My original plan was to get an early start on the way to each class so I could figure out good routes and learn my way around campus. I had failed to do so twice thus far, and by this point I was just hoping for the best.

It helped that I kept a map, where I had circled the locations of all of my classes. I got turned around once, but was lucky to find plenty of landmarks on campus that helped me get my bearings: well-kept gardens decorated with modern art sculptures, pristine bronze statues of important people to the school, large old buildings with sloping archways, and plenty of helpful little signs at major areas like the dining hall and student activities center.

I made it to class ten minutes late. Ordinarily, I would have been mortified; such a thing would have been unthinkable in high school, and I still had remnants of that mindset since I had only graduated a couple of semesters ago. To my relief, university classes were a lot more lax than I was used to. The professors were so accustomed to students being late that they didn't even pause in their lectures to acknowledge when anyone walked in. The professor of my Literature Class, which was the one I had just entered, did give me a bit of a look, but seemed grateful (if anything at all) that I entered as quietly as I possible. It helped that the classroom door was located in the back of the room, and an empty seat was only a short distance away from it.

I slumped into the seat and took a few quiet breaths to calm myself down, all while setting myself up to take notes from the lecture in progress.

"Late for this class too, huh?"

A loud whisper rose up from someone sitting beside me, and I couldn't help flinching from the surprise. A guy with thick glasses and brown hair made almost entirely of cowlicks was snickering as he nudged my side with his elbow. I didn't remember seeing him there the moment before, but honestly hadn't been paying attention.

"I recommend getting an alarm clock with bluetooth or some kinda aux port," he kept whispering. "That old buzzer you've got is so annoying you probably sleep through it out of spite. I don't see how you could, honestly. They probably use noises like that for torture in POW camps. Though I guess you probably got it because the noise was so grating, you thought it would be more effective to--"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" I interjected suddenly, but much more quietly than he had been speaking. That was the most polite way I could think to express, "Why are you talking to me right now and how do you know about my alarm clock?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess we haven't been properly introduced yet. I'm one of your roommates, obviously. Otherwise I wouldn't know about your alarm clock. If I did and I wasn't your roommate, that'd be pretty creepy, huh. Kensuke Aida." He sat up and held out his hand for me to shake. He spoke so fast that I almost didn't register where his name was in all of that information.

"Oh, um...Shinji Ikari." When I took his hand, he gripped and jostled mine with such enthusiasm that his hair shook around even more. "N-nice to meet you."

Even after Kensuke let my hand go, he didn't stop fidgeting. He pushed up his glasses constantly, and kept brushing stray hair out of his face. When he wasn't doing that, he was wiping his sniffling nose or scratching at his cheek. He was a high energy type, and I found that jarring in my current mental state.

"Shinji Ikari! Cool. Good to know." He beamed and tapped the cover of his text book rhythmically.  "Ikari, huh. I feel like I've heard that name before somewhere."

It was a good thing he started speaking again immediately, otherwise I would have had to deal with dodging that sentence: "Hey, if you want, I can start waking you up when I leave for class in the morning. We have the first two classes of the day together most of the time anyway, apparently."

"Oh...wow," I really didn't want him to do that. At all. "That's um...that's nice of you to offer, but you really don't have to--"

"Nah, it's no problem! I get up super early anyway, and rarely ever take naps. We can exchange schedules later."

"No, seriously, it's--"

"Come on, I'd feel bad if I didn't help. We're roommates, so we have to look out for each other, right?"

I figured it'd be pointless to argue any further. Kensuke's already ineffective whispering had escalated into an audible mutter, and people were starting to look at us. I had a feeling he was going to insist into oblivion, and was frankly too tired for that. I also wanted to pay attention to the lecture, so I just nodded in response and smiled a little for his sake. He beamed back at me and gave me two thumbs up. My smile became pained, but I was grateful that he didn't talk anymore.

Naturally, Kensuke accosted me the minute class ended. He tried to launch into a long conversation about which clubs I was into and what my major was and what class did I have next and how was I liking Keiyu University so far on and on, infinitely asking whether I answered or not.

When he asked for my phone number, I projected into a future where my phone was constantly buzzing with calls and texts in the wee hours of the morning, all saying "Kensuke Aida" and asking things like what my favorite color was or where I saw myself in five years.

It would have been more awkward to decline outright without a reason since we shared a dorm room, but I couldn't think of a good one quickly enough. We'd run into each other again inevitably, and I would rather be uncomfortable than rude, so I gave my number to him. At the very least, it ensured that I was rid of him soon after and could continue the walk to my next class in peace.

My schedule itself was a 40-60 split between classes I actually wanted to take and classes I was forced to take to keep my scholarship. My fifth period class (Comparative Culture) was one of the latter, and were I not terrified of the consequences, I would have skipped it altogether. Kensuke wasn't there, which was both a relief and a disappointment. He was the only person I had really spoken to upon arriving at university, and I already missed that familiarity. It was especially discouraging to find out Comparative Culture was a heavily participation based lecture, and the class was small enough that my chances of being forced to speak up were significantly increased.

After a long period of uncomfortable introductions and the usual hard-up lecture from a no-nonsense professor I could tell wasn't going to like me, class was finally over for the day. When I pulled out my phone to check the time, I gave brief thought to texting Kensuke. I figured it was the thing to do, even though I wasn't sure what to say. I opened the new message screen and typed out a few texts to see which one was the least awkward.

"Hey, wanna hang out?" Nope, too lame. That didn't sound like something I would say at all. I deleted it and tried another one.

"Hey, are you busy?" Definitely not. Too nosy.

"I'm about to head to the dining hall, wanna meet up?" Weirdly inauthentic.

"What are you doing?" Sounded too much like we were dating.

"Hey Kensuke, remember me from earlier? I don't know anyone but you and I felt like the proper thing to do was text you and see if you wanted to hang out since you offered. I'm not used to hanging out with people and frankly the very idea of texting you is making me nervous and uncomfortable. Feel like getting some lunch?"

That one was close to okay, but probably oversharing.

I settled, finally, on "Hey, it's Shinji from Edo Lit." Perfectly nondescript. It was open ended enough that he could respond with anything, or not respond at all. I wasn't putting myself out there with an invitation, but wasn't being too cold, either. The logical next step was simply to shove the phone in my pocket and make an effort to forget about it immediately.

And by "make an effort to forget about it" I, naturally, obsessed over nothing else but the phone in my pocket for the next several minutes. Even as I carried on walking to the dining hall, a portion of my mental energy was fixated on waiting for Kensuke's reply. I needed immediate reassurance to affirm that I hadn't just made an idiot out of myself and somehow put him off with a harmless six-word text message.

The key here is "immediate" reassurance. Without that "immediacy", every second that ticked away made me less confident and more convinced that I had done something bad or wrong. The entire walk to the dining hall made my chest heavier, because clearly the entire world's weight rested upon it.

I had learned coping mechanisms for this, though. There was no reason to let it get to me. I stood up straight as I walked and pursed my lips tight, remaining focused on where I was going. I poured every fluid ounce of my attention into where I was supposed to go. Walk out of the front hallway, through the outdoor study area, past the secondary courtyard and onto the brick path lined with ginkgo trees. Make a left at the fork in that brick path. Pass through the sliding doors at the end. Cut through the campus store, then cross the walkway into the dining hall.

I commended myself for remembering the directions enough to only look at the map twice. I also commended myself for remembering to grab a tray on the way into the dining hall. The campus tour guide mentioned that it's easy to forget, and I felt that remembering all on my own was a promising sign of...something.

If nothing else, my lack of familiarity with the campus layout kept a vast portion of my mind occupied. The more my mind was occupied, the harder it would be for me to go on autopilot. It wasn't very good for me to go on autopilot while doing new things. Old, habitual things that had basically become muscle memory were fine. Wandering around an unfamiliar college campus filled with other stressed out students, however, was far from ideal. My mind would get lost in itself if outside stimuli weren't enough for it to focus on. If that happened, I would drift through long stretches of time with little to no conscious thought, and end up missing out on or messing up something colossally important.

I was doing a wonderful job of focusing, too. I managed to keep my mind from reeling as much as it would have ordinarily, which was really a commendable feat. I was able to really focus on the lit up, plastic menu over the machine that dispensed meal tickets. It was easy to think carefully over whether I wanted pork or chicken cutlets. White rice or brown rice? Or maybe vegetable tempura? How long does it take to respond to a text? Has he even seen it yet? Was it weird for me to text him?

The sukiyaki looked really good.

Do I want a dessert?

Why do I even care so much whether he texts me or not? I don't even like him.

"Vegetable tempura, then." I mumbled to myself, more to reclaim my attention span than anything else. My mind was trying to wander back to my phone and the text, but I wasn't going to let it without some kind of fight. And it always was a fight when it came to my anxiety. If I kept up at this rate, I would have to change my anxiety score to an eight or nine during Dr. Akagi's next test session.

I fished around in my pocket for change, happy that I had just enough for the tempura. I put the coins in one by one, counting as I did so just to double check. One hundred yen, two hundred yen, three hundred yen, four hundred yen, still nothing from my phone. Four hundred and fifty yen, four hundred and sixty yen, then a little chime and the clinking sound of spare change.

I took my ticket when it slid out of the machine and grabbed a tray on the way to the line. I kept it pressed down against the metal railing as I walked, and it made me feel more grounded. I gave my ticket to a smiling man behind the lunch counter who handed me a sizeable plate of hot tempura. He also gave me a small bowl of rice and some dipping sauce.

"I hope you like it." he said with a smile. He looked and sounded really nice, like he really meant that he wanted me to enjoy the food. Maybe I just wanted him to mean it, because it was more heartwarming that way. I tried not to linger on that thought for too long.

I slid my tray down the line toward the side dishes, trying to decide between the seaweed salad, the dumplings, and throwing my phone into the pot of miso soup behind the counter to keep from worrying about the text message anymore. Why do I even have a phone anyway?

"Miso soup, please." I said to the server in front of me, a woman this time.

"Wonderful choice." She replied. Her smile was just as helpful and welcoming as the man beside her, but her demeanor didn't seem as genuine.

"Would you like anything else? You get one extra side dish."

"Yes, a working understanding of social cues, please." I wanted to say, but instead I asked, "Does the salad have ginger in it?"

"Yes, this one does. We have another one without it, though, if you'd prefer that." 

"Do you think I could choke myself on the salad if I ate it fast enough?" Nope, don't say that. Too off-putting.

"Yes, please," is better. So I said that.

"Okay, thank you. Enjoy your meal."

I managed a small smile in the face of her radiant one and walked to one of the tables nearby. The food smelled wonderful, which was a shame. My insides were churning so much I wondered if I could even eat any of it. When I sat down, my legs felt like jelly and my palms were sweating. My attention was splitting violently between my still silent phone and those two really nice servers behind the counter. I was so distracted by so many things that I just started eating without a thought. The food was phenomenal; surprisingly well done for a cafeteria. I assumed they could afford fresh ingredients and better chefs at a prestigious university, so it made sense.

Maybe Kensuke was busy with club activities. The dining hall was pretty scarce at that moment, so it was likely that everyone was either in clubs, still in class, or just doing other stuff. Maybe he was just doing other stuff, and I was freaking out over nothing. It was highly likely that he had lost his phone, or just didn't hear it go off. Maybe he was in an area of the building with bad reception. He was the one who asked for my number, so why would he ignore me?

Maybe it was too stand-offish? I hadn't even considered that. Perhaps I had given him the impression that I wasn't really interested in talking to him. I wasn't, at the time, so that probably got across somehow, even if it seemed like it didn't. Maybe he was freaking out about it just as much as I was. I probably came off as some arrogant asshole. Maybe I should send him another text explaining, or apologizing. That might help, right? Would it be too desperate?

I was frantically shovelling salad into my mouth, finding it more difficult to breathe as I chewed. Just then, a voice called from across the dining hall to me, and I choked on a bit of seaweed that I was in the process of swallowing.

"Shinji, hey! There you are!"

I looked up and saw Kensuke waving at me. Some other guy I didn't recognize was following him, yawning and frowning.

The sort of relief that came to me then was a rare and welcome one. It was the relief that often followed my mounting anxiety attacks being redirected at just the right time.

"Whew, glad I caught you here!" Kensuke said, sounding relieved as well for some reason. "I meant to text you back but my phone died before I could! Sorry about that."

His phone died, I thought. That's all that happened.

"Haha, don't worry about it. It's totally fine. I wasn't sure if you had club activities, or something like that. No harm done."

"Nah, no club stuff on Mondays. The only days I have free for that are Fridays and Saturdays, so far. Other than that, outside of class hours I'm either in the dorm or in here. So if you ever wanna find me, now you know where to look!" He smiled, pulling up a chair.

"Wow, this is so nice, seeing you guys connect. I'd be touched if I weren't preoccupied with tryna figure out why you had to drag me out of bed for it."

I had already forgotten about the sullen guy walking beside Kensuke, but when he spoke it was with unrestrained bitterness. He was still standing, looking even more sour than before, a perfect polar opposite to Kensuke in many ways; his hair was dark and shaved into a spiky buzzcut. His clothes were loosely put together at best, and his face fell too easily into a scowl. His eyes were puffy and he kept yawning, clearly indicating that he had indeed been pulled out of bed. This came as somewhat of a surprise, being that it was five in the afternoon.

"You've been sleeping literally all day, so I don't know why you're being such a baby about it. I already told you we were going to find Shinji." Kensuke said.

"I don't remember that." the guy responded.

"Too bad, you're here now. We're all roommates, so we should know each other. It was about time you got up, anyway."

"I politely and humbly disagree." the guy grumbled, dropping himself into a chair and shoving his hands into his pockets. His glare turned to me next, razor sharp as if I were the one to blame for his discomfort.

"Anyway," Kensuke rolled his eyes and smirked. "Shinji, this is Toji Suzuhara. You probably know him as the snoring lump of blankets on the bed across the room. Toji, this is Shinji Ikari, proud owner of the world's worst alarm clock."

"N-nice to meet you, Toji." I said, wiping a bit of food from the corner of my mouth.

"Yeah same." Toji grunted impatiently, his eyes darting away for a moment. "You're need to get a new alarm clock, by the way, or we're gonna have problems."

"Oh, s-sorry about that." I was under the impression that he he couldn't even hear it through his deathlike sleep, since he didn't move an inch when it went off earlier.

"I already told him about that, without all the sass." Kensuke said, smacking Toji on the arm in a way that I would be far too intimidated to do. "Maybe he should keep it just to spite you. Turn it up even so that you'll actually get out of bed at a decent time."

"Don't matter what time I get outta bed if I don't have classes."

"You do have classes. I know you have at least one class on Mondays."

"Wow, I didn't know that was your business."

"It became my business when we traded schedules."

"Well now I know not to make that mistake again."

Kensuke hit him again, and Toji growled back like an angry dog. I snickered while idly sipping my soup and watching them bicker.

"That reminds me, Shinji. You still wanna trade schedules so I can help wake you up?" Kensuke said, turning his attention back to me after giving Toji several more swift slaps to the arm.

"Uh..." I paused to search for a way to say no, despite having already made an agreement by that point. Something told me Kensuke wouldn't care much if I had changed my mind. Still, I couldn't bring myself to do it. "Yeah, sure. Here you go."

I probably should have been grateful that he was so willing to help; it would save me a lot of future embarrassment if I could actually make it to class on time. I couldn't shake the feeling that I owed him for this, even though he hadn't indicated that at all. He looked over my schedule closely, his eyes darting over it probably to memorize every detail. His expression was thoughtful, maybe even a bit surprised as he looked it over.

Toji leaned over to look at it, too, letting out a scoff and shaking his head.

"What are you even majoring in? Your schedule's all over the place." Toji said.

"L-library and information science?" I replied uncertainly, feeling more self-conscious about it from his comment.

"This is nothing," Kensuke handed my schedule back and pulled his out. "You should see my schedule. You're lucky you get to take all of those humanities classes, those are a breeze. I pretty much have to focus all on science to meet my prerequisites and finish in time to pursue my Master's within five years."

I took his schedule when he handed it to me, immediately struck by how dense it was. He had all five periods full four days out of the week, with no less than three periods every other day. By the course names, I guessed that most of them were advanced science classes, with a couple of language and literature courses thrown in. He had also scrawled in the margins several notes on class locations and clubs he wanted to join.

"Wow...all of these are prerequisites?" I asked him.

"Not all of them. Some are just for fun, or because they're relevant to one of my majors on some level. I was kinda trying to fill my schedule, but at least the open spaces give me time for circles."

"Circles?"

"Clubs," Toji said with another wide yawn. "Extracurricular stuff. They're called circles around here."

"Yeah. Most people spend more time on circles than actual classes, since they're more interesting. Apparently extracurriculars are a big deal around here." Kensuke said matter of factly, reaching forward to point at the handwritten notes. "I've got Robotics on Friday afternoons, Music on Saturday mornings, Historical Re-enactments on Sunday morning, and Stargazing on Friday and Saturday nights. I'm sure more will come up as the year gets underway. Most of the best circles are the unsanctioned ones that start up halfway through the semester."

Just listening to him was making me feel overwhelmed. Having such a difficult time with my own schedule seemed trivial by comparison.

"Have you joined any circles yet?" Kensuke asked, this time pausing for me to answer. I didn't right away, though, because I felt that it might seem strange that the answer was no. Even though it was only the first day, and I didn't know anything existed until moments before.

"It's not like you have to join any circles or anything, but they can be really fun!" Kensuke filled my silence dutifully, giving me a much needed out.

"There...must be a lot of them though, right?" I said finally. "I mean, with a school this big..."

"Oh yeah, definitely. There are probably as many circles as there are students." Toji said, and I prickled trying to imagine such a large number of groups.

Kensuke chimed in again with more questions. "What do you like to do? Like, hobbies and stuff. That can narrow it down a lot."

I had to pause for a really long time, because I couldn't think of a good answer to that either.

"Um...I uh, I-I play cello sometimes."

"That's pretty cool!" Kensuke said, brightening up. "The Performance and Practice class you have on Saturdays, for second period? It's tied in with the music circle I'm in. I mean, technically the class itself is the music circle. Apparently the professor is just really lax and tends to do stuff like that. Calling it a class just gives us access to university-funded instruments and instructional materials."

"Really?...I guess that could be pretty cool..."

"Yeah, dude! I play flute myself, and they've got all kinds of instruments just lying around. You should try it out!"

"O-okay." I said quietly, then took a sip of my drink. I stared down at my tray with a small smile, feeling a bit more hopeful than I did a little while ago.

"And if you ever wanna join any other circles, there's a whole directory of the school-sanctioned ones in the Student Center."

"Oh, well...I don't have a lot of days free," I said awkwardly, thinking about Kensuke's schedule again and immediately regretting it. "I mean, for clubs and stuff. I have Saturdays, but every other evening I have to do this...appointment thing, for my dad."

"Aw man, that's a bummer. Family stuff can be a pain."

I flinched a little at the phrase "family stuff", because I don't think any phrase could have been less accurate than that. I wasn't entirely sure how to phrase it, but knew it would sound too strange to most people, even someone as lackadaisical as Kensuke.

"Yeah." Was all I said. "It can be a pain, sometimes."

 

I was determined to make sure things went a lot more smoothly, going forward. I got used to the long treks across campus, so I used a lot less energy jogging aimlessly and making wrong turns. Kensuke was dutiful about waking me up every morning, and even jostled me from midday naps when necessary.

Eventually, I looked forward to hanging out with him. He was always excited to see me for some reason, and that made me feel okay. I had also settled into a routine going to and coming from my classes, which made a lot of things far easier. I had memorized the best routes, and no longer needed naps in the middle of the day to recover.

I had learned to appreciate my downtime, though--especially when I remembered Kensuke's schedule and saw him scrambling around on days that I had free. He seemed most in his element at those times, though. Like he enjoyed being frazzled and on edge.

I still hadn't joined any circles despite Kensuke's tireless urging. I didn't feel any need to, since the only thing I did outside of class and homework was play cello, and that was covered already by my Practice and Performance class.

Like Kensuke had told me before, it was more of a free period that allowed students access to nice instruments and tons of sheet music. The professor was definitely laid back, in a paradoxical sort of way. For instance, he was always wore a dress shirt and tie, but his hair was long and in a frizzy ponytail, and he apparently never shaved because his face was covered in stubble every day. He didn't have to wear a dress shirt and tie, but always did. He carried himself as the loose and confident type who didn't seem to care what anyone did as long as music was being made.  He never bothered anyone who just wanted to mess around, but was also really helpful to those actually wanting to learn something. It was an odd structure compared to my other classes, but I didn't complain in the slightest.

There were only about fifteen students in the class, Kensuke and I included. People tended to either group up and goof off in small circles, or practice dutifully on their own. Kensuke always sat next to me, and we'd play duets sometimes. He played the flute, quite terribly, but I never told him that out loud.

"It's like you get better everyday and I just get worse." Kensuke said one day after class, putting down his flute after stumbling through a clumsy solo.

"Aw, don't say that," I gave him a placating smile in return. "You're...coming around. I think."

"It's okay, you don't have to lie. I know I'm terrible." He chuckled as he said this, which made me feel less terrible about thinking it.

"You could always talk to the professor about lessons. He actually knows a lot about music."

"I dunno, I feel like I'm pretty maxed out on learning new disciplines. I never saw myself as getting serious about the flute, anyway. My thing is science, yours is music."

"Nah, music is just a hobby." I tried to play it off, since I couldn't admit to myself that I possessed any skill.

"Could've fooled me. You get in the zone with that cello in your hands. If that's just a hobby, I definitely wanna see what you're like when you get serious." He laughed, unscrewing and packing his flute into its case.

I just laughed with him, since I couldn't think of anything to say that wasn't self-deprecating. Light-hearted conversations with light-hearted people don't usually fare well against self-deprecation.

"You wanna go get something to eat?" Kensuke said to me as we walked out of the classroom. "I have a few hours free till my Stargazing circle meets up."

"Oh, um...actually, I have to go pretty soon," I said, taking a pause while shrugging my bag onto my shoulders. "We can maybe get something from the convenience store, but I have to be at the train station before five thirty."

"Oh right, another visit with your dad. You do that like every other day, right?"

"Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays. Sometimes Mondays and Wednesdays...and I guess Fridays, too, every once in awhile." I continued, fishing in my pockets for money while we walked to the campus store. It was only a short walk from to the store, but I kept checking the time on my phone as we went.

"Jeez, he must be a stickler for quality time to keep you on such a tight schedule. Do you just hang out with him or what?" Kensuke asked offhandedly once we reached the store, wandering over to the chip aisle.

"I wouldn't call it 'hanging out', and it's hardly quality time." I replied, and it sounded really bitter out loud. "If he didn't need me for his studies, I'd never see him."

"Studies?" Kensuke said, his interest obviously piqued now.

"Yeah. He's a neuroscientist working on some research study right now. I don't really get it, but his company provides my scholarship so I have to participate." I rattled off while staring at the sandwiches. There was the usual ham and cheese, egg salad, chicken cutlet, etc. I did notice a strawberries and cream one that I had never seen before, and it looked really good.

Funnily enough as I spoke, I was really fixated on that one sandwich. It didn't even look like a sandwich, it more closely resembled a strawberry shortcake in the shape of a triangle. It looked so delicious though, like it was really soft and not too sweet.

"What's the study for?" Kensuke asked, tearing my attention away from the sandwich and allowing me to glance over the others.

"I think it's a government thing, I dunno. The scholarship is full-ride, though, and I get a stipend to cover my living costs, so that's why I have to make these appointments."

"Wow, that sounds kinda cool, honestly."

"I don't know if that's how I would describe it."

"Well, think of it this way; you're getting paid to be part of scientific breakthroughs! It's pretty important, and I bet you get to see all kinds of neat stuff. I wish I could join a research study as part of my thesis or something. Man, I wonder what kind of study it is...and for the government, too? That's pretty--wait...hold on a second..."

I turned away from the sandwiches for a moment to see that Kensuke was staring at me with a shrewd look on his face. I stared back awkwardly, occasionally breaking eye contact to glance around and hoping he would follow suit. He seemed lost in thought, tapping his chin and mumbling to himself.

"...Now that I think about it...I think I know where I've heard your name before. It's on the tip of my tongue..."

I tensed up a little, turning back to the sandwiches to avoid his gaze completely now. I anticipated what he was going to say next, but hoped quietly that he hadn't pieced it together. I wasn't used to people being familiar with my dad's work, so this came as a complete surprise to me

"...Waaaait, I got it! But there's no way..." He said after a long silence.

I groaned a little.

"Nah, it can't be."

I stared at the strawberries and cream sandwich desperately, as if it could help me.

"You're not, Ikari as in, like, related to _Gendou_ Ikari, are you?"

I didn't answer, which was probably worse than lying.

"There's no way your dad is _the_ Gendou Ikari, the military neuroscientist and founder of NERV Gendou Ikari, right!?"

I sighed, reaching for a chicken sandwich, because it was probably more substantial than the strawberries and cream. "Yeah. That's him."

"Holy _crap_ , dude!Wow! Just...wow." There was a dramatic pause in which I was certain that Kensuke was still staring at me. I wasn't sure if he expected me to relish in his incredulity or say something else, but I started feeling awkward again so I read the nutrition facts on the sandwich.

"I mean, I'm sure you already know this, but your dad is kind of a big deal...like, one of the leading names in modern neuroscience kind of big deal."

"Yeah, everyone he works with does a really good job of telling me that."

"And you weren't gonna tell me!"

"It's not that big of a deal."

"It's kind of a big deal, Shinji! Gendou Ikari is like a celebrity in the science world! I wish my dad could do even half of what he does!"

Kensuke's excitement was making me more uncomfortable by the second. I really wished he would stop talking, but couldn't very well tell him that. Instead, I dropped the chicken sandwich and grabbed two strawberry creams. I didn't need them, and probably shouldn't waste the money, but I was feeling flippant and annoyed.

"Seriously, though, that's amazing. And he got you a full scholarship to Keiyu for participating in his study! He's _gotta_ have some connections in the university."

"Yeah. He works with the Keiyu...Leading, Edge, um...Research...something."

"The Keiyu Laboratory of Leading-Edge Technology and Research. He must work with them outside of his NERV projects, that's so awesome."

"Yeah, sure. That's the one."

"I am legitimately freaking out a little bit." Kensuke was freaking out more than just a little bit. He was practically swooning at this point. To escape it, I started walking toward the register, but he followed me.

"Half of my neuroscience textbook cites papers he's written and research he's done. His exploration of incomprehensible new technologies benefiting behavioral, military, and medical science is just amazing...he's probably the most fascinating researcher in the field right now!"

I put extra focus on counting out exact change for my sandwiches.

"Hey, have you ever been to NERV? My dad works at the branch in Matsushiro, but he's one of like a thousand lab techs. Kind of a peon, to be honest. I'm sure your dad is way up in the chain, being the commander and all...oh man, do you think you could get me in!? I'd love to talk to ask about his essays on quantifiable neural wavelengths and their relation to social interaction, or his theses on the causes behind the Second Impact. Oh, maybe I wonder if he's made any further developments on the Human Instrumentality Project and Eva--"

"Hey, um." I cut across him abruptly because I felt a migraine coming on. "I kinda have to get to the train. If I don't go soon I'm gonna be late."

"Oh, right...okay! Well, have fun dude! Tell me all about it later!" Kensuke said excitedly. He let it go for the moment, but I knew he'd be full of questions when I got back to the dorm.


	3. 3

While being led across the university's Club Fair, I couldn't stop thinking about the immense social pressure of such a large event. Kensuke's enthusiasm for the gathering was one thing, Toji's slouching grumpiness was another. Outside of that, the sheer mass of chatter and movement made me weary within minutes.

To its credit, though, the atmosphere was lovely, and the decorations were nicely done: hand painted banners and bright little booths were interspersed with late autumn colored trees and the smell of fair food in the air. For all intents, the weather was perfect and the fair could have been a really pleasant experience for me, if not for the people and their noise.

For every small moment that I found myself at ease with the sights and smells, I was tugged at by Kensuke or heard some irritated quip from Toji.

"There are more circles than I thought!" Kensuke said after we had finally sat to rest on a bench. He was holding about fifteen different pamphlets and fliers, after handing a sizable portion to me.

"Yeah. It's kind of...overwhelming." I bemoaned the stack in my lap, none of which I found appealing enough to care for. I had already gone through a portion of the fliers--three Judo circles, four on Astronomy, two on Metaphysics and Astrology, five gaming and Otaku circles, two for knitting and four for crochet--and didn't have it in me to care about the rest.

I appreciated all that Kensuke was doing, but felt guilty that he was more invested in it all than I was. He had originally invited me as a way to introduce me to some new activities, even though I declined several times. He seemed to have boundless enthusiasm for things like this, and I guess he was only trying to cover all of the bases in getting me to be enthusiastic about it, too. I wasn't exactly vocal about what I liked--more due to uncertainty than embarrassment or secrecy--yet still he tried so hard.

When I really thought over it, and took a moment to appreciate his efforts, it seemed only right to just try being enthusiastic. It couldn't hurt much to do so, even if just for his sake. I sometimes felt as if my gloominess brought him down, and couldn't abide that for too much longer.

"Hey, uh, there are still some booths we haven't looked at, I think," I said, coughing a little and setting aside the stack. "Maybe we should check out a few of the arts and aesthetics circles?"

"Oh, yeah! Great idea!" Kensuke responded positively and immediately, like an excited dog given promise of a treat. "I'm down for anything, man! Can't say I know a lot about art or aesthetics, but there's probably something cool over there."

"Great. You two have fun." Toji sloughed himself up from the bench and shook his head with a dizzy stare. "I gotta sleep this off, my head is pounding and all this fair food is making me sick."

"That's what you get for drinking till four in the morning." Kensuke snickered and patted Toji on the back. The latter lurched forward under his touch and shuffled off incoherently.

Kensuke and I embarked on a crawl through the rest of the fair with renewed energy. It was loosely organized by themes and points of interest, so finding booths catered toward arts and aesthetics was surprisingly easy to do.

I knew we had found it before I saw any booth names, because all of the art kids were huddled and crouched under shady arches of a massive willow tree. You could tell they were art kids from a mile away, because they had an aloof and fashionable air about themselves and what they talked about. They all wore clothes that made some kind of statement, and were adorned with ornate accessories from their hair to the shoes they wore. There was a quieter vibe to them, and less energy to the bustle in this area. I found that comforting, and started to think this had been a good idea after all.

At some point, Kensuke and I separated to check out some of the booths on our own. I passed a few music circles, one on fashion design that was so intimidatingly cool I coul dhave died, and hovered around one for watercolor painting indecisively. I eventually approached the Flower Arrangement Circle, as the displays caught my eye. When I saw that I was the only boy checking it out, though, I hung back so as not to draw attention to myself.

The girls crowded around the booth were all completely immersed the display before them, but I noticed after some time that a lot of them seemed more interested in the boy running the booth than the club itself. I assumed he was the club representative, and though he sat in the middle of all of this attention--being equally fashionable to everyone else with his nice clothing and dyed hair--he seemed isolated, somehow. Or maybe detached was a better word; he was sociable and engaging with everyone, but looked very distant, as if he were only half interested in what was happening. Despite his languor, his eyes were sharp and seemed constantly fixated on something just beyond whomever he was talking to. He only moved from his seat to fix a flower or stack of fliers that someone had disturbed, all the while continually engaged in conversation with people hanging around his booth.

I wasn't sure how to strike up a conversation, or if doing so would even be welcome, so I hung around and listened to others' conversations with him to glean what would be best to say.

"They're all so beautiful. Does every arrangement have its own style?" One girl asked with an affective swoon.

"Every arrangement falls into a certain styles with a set of principles and rules, yes," The boy answered, his voice so smooth that she swooned even more. "This one in front of you is of the rikka shofutai style, one of the oldest and most complex."

"How do you _even_ learn to do something like this? They all look _so_ lovely." Another girl said, a little too much.

"It's quite simple, once you learn the principles. Anyone could do it with the right mindset."

"Really?"

"Of course. It's all in one's personal preference, especially with the more improvisational styles. I am certain you could make a wonderful arrangement yourself if you put your mind to it."

The girls giggled and blushed. I couldn't blame them, honestly. I started blushing a little myself and I wasn't even part of their conversation. I couldn't tell if he was a womanizer, just flirting for effect to get them interested, or genuinely appealing that way.

"Something like this would be perfect for my parent's anniversary, or to brighten up my dorm...but oh, I don't know..." One girl said.

"I hear there's a lot to it. Like, a whole philosophy and set of rules." Another replied to her.

"It can seem like a lot, at first," the club representative said to them both. "But there really is a style to suit everyone. If you'd like, you are welcome to attend our Beginner's Gathering every second Sunday. It is a good way to decide if flower arrangement is right for you without any pressure to join. If you find you do not like it, that's perfectly alright."

These conversations unfolded so easily between them, and no matter how many I listened to, I couldn't quite grasp how to do it myself. My anxiety peaked just thinking about talking to him. I resolved to just take a flier while he was distracted and wander somewhere else, away from that booth. There was something about groups of people already enjoying themselves that rubbed me the wrong way. It would have been awkward to strike up a conversation without knowing for sure that I was going to join the club, anyway.

I tried my luck next at the Calligraphy booth, where no one was hanging around. The representative there was hunched over an incredibly long section of paper and painting out smooth, intricate characters that I couldn't recognize.

Before I even approached the table, she looked up at me, her expression mildly perturbed at best. She had the loudest colored hair of everyone around, a fiery orange that more than matched her fierce frown. There was a visible circle of space around her booth, as if people were actively avoiding it.

"What are you staring at?" Her voice came out as a bark, and her stare petrified me for a moment. I wasn't even sure why I was walking toward her in the first place. I had absolutely no interest in calligraphy. Maybe I thought it would be easier to try and start a conversation because she was by herself. I could tell immediately that it would be pointless. I hadn't even fully approached yet, and already she looked as if I were a massive inconvenience.

With my face burning red, I veered off in a different direction, hoping that her gaze left me as I wandered away.

I looked wearily over at the other booths and smattered groups of students. I made my rounds with a discouraged air, feeling it just as burdensome as being dragged around previously. A small "Hello" was manageable to those who said it to me first, and the occasional quiet answer to a question or offhanded compliment escaped me. Beyond that, I did little more than collect extra pamphlets and avoid interaction.

"Y'know Shinji, I don't really think aesthetics are for me," Kensuke said, after we reconvened at some point. "This stuff kinda goes over my head, but I've never been much of an artsy type. Did you find anything?"

"I dunno...it didn't turn out like I thought." I responded dejectedly, fingering the fliers in my hands. To be fair, I was actually more interested in these fliers than the ones that Kensuke had given me earlier, but couldn't bring myself to talk much about them. I felt very heavy, and really just wanted to go back to the bench.

"Welp, better luck next time. They have fairs like these just about every season." Kensuke said amicably, as if to console me.

I nodded and pushed my hair behind my ears, casting a wayward glance back at the lovely collection of people and booths. Content that I had done enough interaction for the day, I turned back to Kensuke and started walking toward the dining hall, "Let's get something to eat, maybe."


	4. 4

Maybe it was time to join a club, I thought one day. Completely out of the blue.

After my last few harmonics tests at NERV, appointments became much less frequent. On one hand, I appreciated that immensely. Without having to worry about the almost daily commute to Hakone and going through the rigmarole of tests, I was a lot more relaxed and actually had some free time. Even the classes themselves didn't stress me out as much as when I had sync tests to worry about. I had gotten through the first round of midterms, and didn't have to study as much for awhile. With my spare time, I began taking short walks around campus, and had even taken up reading again.

On the other hand, though, despite a more positive feeling overall, my sync ratios had been steadily declining and I wasn't sure why. Dr. Akagi seemed annoyed by this development that seemingly came out of nowhere, if she expressed any opinion about it at all. Misato tried cheering me up more often, which for her meant making more jokes about trying to date me. I didn't worry so much about my father since he was in a constant state of displeasure with me, but I knew he was especially irritated via the messages relayed to me by Dr. Akagi.

I had previously, without thought, taken solace in the fact that my sync tests yielded promising results. Even though I had no idea what the results meant (or what they pertained to really) it was gratifying to be told I had done well for the day. That praise all but totally disappeared after the decline in my results, despite my previously consistent ones. I couldn't say praise would have made me feel any better about the tests, but it certainly wouldn't have hurt. I needed something, anything for which I could be praised in that stead. I couldn't explain it even to myself, but I lived for nothing if not acknowledgement. To quietly exist was nice, but I knew I had expectations to live up to, and it was important that I satisfy them. Otherwise, what's the point in anything.

I thought back to the fair I had attended with Kensuke some weeks before, and the little cluster of art circles that left the biggest impression on me. I had kept their fliers for no particular reason other than a lack of effort in tossing them out. I never thought I would need them again, but found myself rummaging through binders and drawers to collect them when I had that thought: "Maybe I should join a club."

Conveniently, my interest in these clubs came at a good time of the week, since a lot of their meetings would be coming up. Based on my schedule, the Flower Arrangement circle seemed the most convenient. I also held the most pleasant memories of it from the fair (namely the gorgeous arrangements covering the display, and the pleasant club representative tending the booth). There was also, though, the intimidating gaggle of girls interested in the club, and wondered if they were really a reflection of the membership. If that turned out to be true--if it really was a club full of fawning, beautiful, art-conscious socialites--I definitely had no place there. I almost decided against going just based on that fear. I didn't really believe I would be any good at it, if I was being honest with myself. It wasn't like that guy would talk to me just because I joined. Tons of people probably joined just to get his attention, anyway. How could he notice me? Why did I even care about his attention at all?

Why did I want to join a club, again?

I was making myself dizzy with these thoughts, and they were getting me nowhere. I told myself to just go to the meeting. At the very least, I could see what it was like and maybe have some fun. It would probably be different from what I was imagining, I could meet a friend or find that I was really good at flower arrangement and just never realized it before. Chances were half of those girls from the fair had no real interest in the club and probably wouldn't be there. Even if they were, maybe they're nice. Who knows?

So, with my decision made, when Sunday came I listlessly awaited the meeting time on the flier. I woke up early, for once, to see that Kensuke and Toji were both gone. Kensuke was likely at one of his many classes, while Toji was more likely passed out in someone else's dorm from a party.

I still had two hours before the circle met up, and no substantial way to fill that time.

I pulled out my cello because I had no idea what else to do, and my default way to kill time was playing cello. I started the only piece I knew well enough to play without sheet music, the first movement of Bach's Cello Suite in G Minor. It was the first song I ever learned, and so deeply committed to muscle memory that I sometimes found myself dreaming about it or playing it in my sleep.

This time, though, the attempt to play was fruitless. I couldn't seem to make the music flow properly; my fingers went stiff trying to move up and down the neck of the cello, and I made too many mistakes to let myself get through the entire movement. I tried to freestyle for awhile, but was nowhere near talented enough for that. I stopped with still an hour to go until the club meeting started.

Unable to force myself through another piece of music or a distracted study session, I decided just to get something to eat and meander around campus until the club started.

With my cassette player in hand and my bag slung over my shoulder, I set out toward the dining hall, clutching the club's flier. Once again, the crowd in the dining hall was sparse, since most people that were awake at this hour probably had classes.

I smiled at the server behind the counter when I approached, and he gave me a warm, "How are you doing today?" like he always did. I saw him there a lot, and after a few times he started to recognize me. I never asked his name and he never asked mine, but our exchanges were always pleasant. Perhaps it was better that we didn't know each other's names. If we went there, then we'd actually have to get to know each other, and would be too difficult.

I told him I was fine, as usual, and asked for a small bowl of salad. He gave me a compliment on being so healthy, then told me to have a great day. 

I moved away from the cafe line toward the drink machine, but stopped when I saw someone blocking it. They were standing in front of the machine thoughtfully, their arms folded and hanging with a few large shopping bags. The bags they held were packed with colossal green plant stalks covered in wide, fan-shaped leaves. There were several other bags resting at their feet, though I couldn't see what was in them.

They didn't seem to be in much of a hurry, and were in fact standing entirely relaxed in front of the machine. Other than their posture and their distinctly thin frame, striking outfit and silver-dyed hair seemed to cry out for attention. I could only see their back from where I stood, but knew from the way they hummed and shook their head that they were intently glancing over every item in the vending machine. I wasn't sure if they were just indecisive or being rude, but I stood behind them for about two minutes without them moving. Part of me wanted to say something, but before I could, they started to dig through their pockets.

One of the shopping bags swung back as they moved their arm and smacked me hard in the leg. I wasn't expecting it to be so heavy, and buckled a little from the weight of it hitting me. I wasn't sure what was in there, but it poked me hard in the thigh and I let out a pathetic yelp while dropping my salad bowl with a loud clatter on the ground.

"Oh, goodness, I'm sorry!" They gasped. "I didn't anyone was behind me. Are you alright?"

"Yeah! No, i-it's, I'm...I'm fine." I stammered, looking down with some disappointment at my spilled food.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. This just won't do." They said, kneeling down in front of me and reaching for the bowl. The flush that rose to my face when I saw them looking down at me was so sudden it made me a little dizzy. The sound of their voice settled in my ears, and I recognized it in hindsight upon seeing their face. It was the boy from flower booth at the fair.

"U-uh...d-don't be, it's...u-um..." I started looking at the ceiling, or the walls, or anywhere that wasn't his face.

"No, no," he responded, kneeling to the ground and picking up the bowl. "I should have been paying attention, and an apology alone just won't do. I'll buy you another one."

"A-another what?"

"Another salad. That is what you had in your hand, right?"

"Oh, that? No, it's, uh," I exhaled nervously, scrambling to my feet. "Don't worry about it, i-it wasn't much..."

"All the more reason for me to buy you another one, then." He stood up while holding the bowl, and I made the mistake of looking at him again for another second. His voice was hinted with a smile, and the sight of it even for a second was too much for me.

I could hear the jingling of change in his hand and stepped back reflexively as he tried to hand it to me. "N-no, seriously, it's fine! I, uh, I have to be somewhere anyway, so..." I wasn't even really referencing the Ikebana club when I said that, I just needed any reason to run away from him.

"Are you sure?"

"Y-yeah, no, i-it's definitely...it's fine, I promise, h-haha." I tried to laugh, but it sounded breathless and desperate.

"If you are sure...at the very least," he sighed in response, then immediately brightened up again. "At the very least, let me walk with you to your destination. You are going to the Flower Arrangement circle in the Faculty of Letters building, right?"

"What? H-how did you know?"

"You are holding the flier in your hand. I assumed that was where you might be going, since it starts in about half an hour."

He responded so candidly that I felt a little silly for reacting the way I did.

"Oh, u-uh, I was just going to...maybe check it out, I guess...you don't really have to go with me, I um... I don't want to rush you or anything. Sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" I wasn't expecting him to say that, since I didn't do it consciously. "It would be no trouble at all, I am happy to do it."

He smiled at me, crow's feet blooming at the corners of his eyes and illuminating his face entire face with that smile. I couldn't find it in me to say no, even though I felt guilty for accepting his company.

"Okay," I sighed finitely, relaxing under his gaze somehow. "Thanks, um..."

"Kaworu Nagisa. And you are?"

"S-shinji. Ikari. Just Shinji is fine, though. If you want." It seemed that Kaworu's features brightened further when I gave my name, and his smile grew in a cryptic way. I wasn't sure if I imagined that, though, and didn't want to bring it up for fear of making this exchange even more uncomfortable.

"Shinji. It is very nice to meet you." Kaworu said after a long pause, his tone even more cryptic. "I couldn't have imagined a better way to do so."

"U-um...same, nice to meet you, too," I said, pulling back and realizing he was still holding my empty bowl. "I could have gone without spilling salad all over your bag, to be honest...but, um...I guess it was a good icebreaker."

Kaworu laughed, and I did too, still nervously. It was a really stupid joke, but I'm glad he laughed anyway.

"Honestly, if not for you I would have spent hours in front of this machine trying to decide what to buy," Kaworu sighed and picked up his bags again, pulling them all onto his shoulders. "There is still quite a lot of time before the circle starts. Are you sure you wouldn't like for me to buy you something?"

"Oh, no, it's really okay," I said, genuinely this time and not just making excuses. "I wasn't even really hungry or anything, just trying to kill time. I didn't know what else to do with myself."

"If that is the case, then I would be happy if you would spend that time with me."

"Why?" I said, without thinking. He laughed in response. I didn't mean to say that out loud, but it was lucky that he liked it.

"I always enjoy meeting new members, especially when I know I am going to like them." He said.

"O-oh. Wow," If I wasn't mistaken, he had just given me a compliment. I wasn't sure how to respond. "Okay, that's...okay. Cool."

"Off we go, then."

There was something in the way Kaworu spoke that was definitive. He sounded so sure of every word that left his mouth, down to the inflections he used and when he spoke. I felt compelled to listen to him, because he seem to know what was appropriate to do. It could have just been confidence or really good social skills, since I wasn't used to that. He had all of his bags on his shoulders and arms before I could even offer to help, and was sure to drop my bowl in the proper receptacle as we left the dining hall.

We walked out of the dining hall and made our way across campus to the Faculty of Letters building. We had been walking together for several minutes before I realized, offhandedly, that we had done so completely in silence. I was so used to traveling with people like Misato or Kensuke, who were always so preoccupied with trying to make conversation that silence was either uncomfortable or nonexistent with them. I didn't feel as uncomfortable being quiet then, though. Kaworu's whole attitude was very serene and unhurried. When I looked over at him, he was absently looking around at the terraces and the hallways through which we walked, or just focused on moving forward. It was a nice change of pace.

We soon reached the Letters building, which I was familiar with since all of my literature and humanities classes were held there. As we continued to the Ikebana room, though, we entered a portion of the building I had never seen before. It was the older part; remnants of the building before it was expanded and modernized to accommodate more and larger classes. In that area, most of the architecture was wide open and favored natural light that poured through large windows. It was so quiet that I could hear the dull tamp of our footsteps on the polished floors, even the sound of birds outside in the courtyard. The windows must have faced the East, because sunlight flooded the walkway through floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Isn't it lovely out today?"

I flinched as Kaworu spoke, having forgotten that he was with me because he was so silent for so long. "Yeah, it is."

"It's so rare for an autumn morning to be bright like this." He stared vacantly out of the window much like how I probably was. "And it will change so quickly, too."

"Yeah..." I responded, looking more at him now than out of the window. We stopped walking for a little bit to look through the window.

"It is a nice season for materials, though," Kaworu held up one of the shopping bags as he said this, the one full of ginkgo branches. "It broadens the color palette for leaves by a lot, since you have more options to choose from than just green. Spring and Summer months are great for flowers, but can be a little too monotonous with leaves."

I didn't fully understand what he was talking about, but knew it must have been related to arrangement. It made sense in a way, but I couldn't even imagine working with different colors of leaves on top of flowers and whatever else would have to be put together to make an arrangement. We were close to the classroom where the circle was held that I didn't have to stay embarrassed about my ignorance for too long.

When we walked inside, people were already arranging supplies and talking among themselves. There were maybe five or six people in the room, clustered in their own small pairs. Not many of them acknowledged our entrance, but the ones that did simply smiled and nodded in our direction. Kaworu waved back at them all and exchanged a few gentle greetings. I noticed that only a few of them looked like the girls I saw at the fair, while the rest were much more plain and mousy.

I hung back behind Kaworu so as not to draw attention to myself, though it didn't work well. I was approached almost immediately upon entering the room.

"Welcome!" A girl with sleek glasses and dark hair pinned back in low pigtails came pouncing up to me, much to my discomfort. "Are you new here?"

"Y-yeah." I said, trying my hardest not to be put off by her predatory gaze, or complete disregard for my personal space. Her smile was full of mischief, and the way she carried herself was a lot like a playful cat. The kind that would scratch up your furniture or knock things off of the table for no reason.

"Oh, how fun! It's always exciting to have fresh materials to work with."

"Mari, the materials are over here." Kaworu said, handing her a couple of the bags as he spoke.

"Mhm, the flowers...anyway what's your name, bright boy?" The girl named Mari asked, crossing her arms and offhandedly ignoring the bags Kaworu was trying to foist upon her.

"U-uh...I-I'm..." I stumbled over my words. Mari was terrifying, and I found myself looking unconsciously to Kaworu for reassurance.

"His name is Shinji, Mari. He is quiet, so please be gentle to him."  Kaworu said, gently pushing the bags to her chest and effectively pushing her away from me a little. It was a little embarrassing, since him saying that made me sound like a small child. I don't know what he meant by it, but it made me feel pitiful and warm all at once.

Even as Mari clutched the bags he handed to her, she trailed close to me and kept asking questions. "Have you ever arranged a piece before?"

"N-no, I haven't."

"I had a feeling," She glanced down at my hands, which were clutching fearfully at my bag strap. "Your fingers look soft. I can tell you don't do much with them."

"I...play cello," I said, automatically hiding my hands in my pockets. I had no idea she was even looking at my fingers before right then, and her insinuating tone didn't help me warm up to her very much.  She was right, though--I was way too out of practice for what I said to even count.

"You play cello?" Kaworu interjected now. "How wonderful...it's always interesting to see what multi-disciplined artists come up with on their own, I even more eager to see what you can do, now."

I could feel the heat rushing to my face as he spoke, and an insurmountable pressure weighed on my mind. Between Mari's predatory way and Kaworu's friendliness, my fears at joining the circle in the first place returned to me full force.

"Ooh, I can smell it on him." Mari's eyes brightened just as this change came about me, which was more eerie than I could have predicted.

"Mari, please set up the materials for the other members. I will be working with Shinji today." Kaworu shooed her gently, then put a hand onto my back and pulled me toward himself.

"Booo, you're no fun. You always take the fresh ones." Mari shrugged helplessly and left us in favor of other people that had just walked in the room.

"I'm sorry about that. Mari can be very...dynamic. She means well, though." Kaworu explained to me, but I couldn't respond. I was petrified by the feeling of his hand on my back, and still reeling from the odd exchange I was just apart of. I needed a moment to shake myself of it, but didn't quite draw away.

"It's fine, I just...I-I'm really...new to this. In a lot of ways. I'm not sure where to start."

"That's alright," he said, despite my vague words. "I think she was a more feisty than usual because of the surprise. It isn't often that we have new members join outside of Beginner's Gathering days."

"O-oh, I didn't realize I'd come on the wrong day. Sorry about that."

He smiled the moment I apologized. "You don't have to apologize. I prefer when beginners find their way into our regular sessions. It is easier to be intimate with them, since there are fewer students. I am able to give you more attention that way."

I had only barely noticed it before, but it was becoming apparent how strange Kaworu's word choice tended to be.

While Mari was occupied chatting up the people that filtered into the room, Kaworu lead me over to a small table and began unpacking the bags he still held. He pulled out some utensils: a few pairs of pruning shears, circular pads with needles sticking up from them, bags of gravel and sea glass, bowls, jars, small vases, the fan-leaf plant fronds I saw earlier, black pine and ginkgo branches, and a colorful spectrum of various flowers. I didn't even know half of them grew around this time of year, nor had I seen them on campus anywhere.

"Where do you get all of these from?" I asked, picking up a bright red flower with petals so ornate and delicate I wondered how they maintained their shape in the bag he was holding.

"Various places. I find quite a lot of them on campus, like the ginkgo branches, for example--I'm sure you know they're all around campus. Sometimes I have venture out if I want something specific. I find many different lilies in Yoyogi Park, and all of the roses here are from a specialty shop in Ginza. That spider lily you're holding is from a shop in Shibuya...the black pine I found at this wonderful shrine in the mountains, and the priests let me take some of it back with me, and so on. The Baby's Breath was very difficult to find, though. I had to order them online. It took them quite a while to get here, but I was so happy when they came."

The way he talked about each of the flowers was full of affection and a bit of pride. It didn't surprise me too much that the representative of a flower arrangement club would go out of his way to find special flowers, but it was nice to hear him talk that way. Just listening to him made me adore the flowers a little more beyond how pretty they were. It was a very fresh feeling, probably similar to being passionate about something.

"So...where do we start?" I asked after he had gone silent for a while, preening over the flowers.

"Well, on days like this people ordinarily pick out their own materials and containers to spend the time arranging however they like," Kaworu said, and indeed people had approached our table and the one where Mari arranged the other materials. Kaworu continued to pull things out of bags as he spoke to me, "My job consists of little more than providing materials and offering instruction when necessary. Most of our current members were here last semester, or already have some experience with arrangement, so I haven't done much instruction lately. That's another reason I am glad to have met you, you've given me a little something to do for the day."

"Oh...cool."

"Why don't you start by picking out some flowers that you like? Once I am done setting up, we can begin."

I nodded and swallowed hard, concentrating now on the flowers. I didn't know anything about ikebana, except that there was a lot to know. I figured, like most traditional aesthetics, it had an ancient set of rules and guidelines people spent years trying to perfect. While ordinarily that could be a little discouraging, I liked to have rules with things like this. I could follow rules extremely well--probably better than I could do anything else, as a matter of fact. If I had any talents at all, following rules would be one of them. If I could apply that skill to the things Kaworu taught me, I could probably make something good enough to impress him, or gather favor from the other members of the circle.

Bolstered a little, I picked out my materials (one of the big fan-leaves, a few sprigs of Baby's Breath, a pink rose, and a branch of a branch black pine) with a flourish. While waiting for Kaworu to finish, I also glanced over the containers he set out and picked a black rectangular vase that was kind of slender and had a perfectly polished surface.

Kaworu occasionally glanced at me as I picked out my items, giving a nod or a low hum with each decision I made. It was hard not to be self-conscious, even though he didn't seem to be judging anything I was doing in particular. There was probably some meaning behind the items I chose that I just wasn't aware of. Maybe each flower was symbolic of something, and they said something about my personality. That was a little terrifying to think of, so I disregarded that thought and just focused on how pretty they were.

"Excellent choices. Now, the rest is easy from here," Kaworu explained, pulling up chairs for the two of us and sitting down in one of them. I sat down after he did, clumsily clutching the flowers and vase to my chest.

"It is all a matter of learning what the tools are and how to use them," Kaworu reached over and gently plucked the plants out of my arms to set on the table.

"Okay."

"Outside of the plant materials themselves," he continued "you will be most concerned with the pruning shears, vases, and frogs."

As Kaworu spoke, he pointed out each of the items. The pruning shears were a pair of heavy, wrought iron scissors, the vases were pretty obvious, and the "frog" was apparently the needly circle thing.

"Frogs." I repeated uncertainly.

"The proper name is a kenzan, but a common name for it is the 'flower frog'," Kaworu explained. "I like that name better. It is the base used to keep all of the stems of an arrangement in place. You pack your container with gravel or soil or what have you, and place the frog on top of that packing. The actual arrangement is made by attaching stems and branches on the pins, before or after having bent them to follow the lines you desire."

"Okay...lines." Already, it was beginning to feel like too much information, and I found myself clutching at the materials on the table.

"It seems a little overwhelming at first, but don't worry. All you really need to know is how to use the materials. Once you know the methods, you can do whatever you like from there, alright?"

"A-alright." I exerted what little will I had not to start blushing again, and looked down at the materials.  They were much more imposing that way, all laid out in front of me and begging me to do something with them, now that I had gone through the trouble of picking them out.

"So um...what do I do first?"

"What would you like to do first?" Kaworu asked, of course saying the last thing I would have wanted him to.

"...I don't really know."

He just smiled, with a noticeable pause. "Why don't you pick up the shears for me, then grab one of the black pine branches."

I exhaled visibly, unable to mask my relief at having tangible instructions. I reached for the shears; they were rough and heavy in my fingers, their texture made me think of a cast-iron skillet handle. With my other hand I picked up the black pine branch.

"Shears are very good for splitting the bases of thick wood and large branches. It is necessary to split the bases so that they can be inserted onto the frog and held in place. A common cut to make is the cross shape, like so--"  He had picked up a branch and pair of shears for himself as he explained to me, and was turning the branch upside down to show me the base of it. With the shears, he gripped the base and cut into it with a loud snap, doing so with two perpendicular lines. "Shears can also be used, of course, to prune excess material that disrupts the line, or shape and feel of the arrangment."

Kaworu continued to demonstrate these simple concepts to me, working his way around the branch and sculpting it into a curved, more purposeful line with a few simple gestures.

I mimicked his movements as much as I could, but that proved difficult to do. After he had explained the basic concepts, Kaworu moved around his branch so thoughtfully that I couldn't follow his logic. He was making judgement calls on how he wanted it to look, without telling me clearly what to do. Not only that, but his branch differed just enough from mine in shape that I couldn't copy him. I was forced to take some creative liberties of my own, which seemed like a lot of pressure. I ended up chopping off a rather pretty clump of pine needles, and regretted doing so immediately.

I looked over at what he was doing for more guidance, but he didn't cut any more off of his branch. He was now gripping the base of it and easing it gently onto the frog until it stood on its own and curled up into the air from its place. Kaworu's "instructions" continued in this way. As he said, there really wasn't much to it, and certainly no more that he could explain in simple terms. All he could do was tell me about each of the materials and offer a few suggestions on how to use them. The rest just couldn't be explained, and seemed more intuitive than anything else.

I was surprised and disheartened by just how much of the process rested on my own creativity. Several times during the arrangement I could feel my chest tightening, and my hands went cold with fear. Even though I held everything gingerly, and affixed it as gingerly as I could to keep from crushing the petals or damaging the leaves, I still managed to do so several times. Meanwhile, Kaworu twisted and bent each item that he held, purposefully fixing them to the frog without so much as harming a leaf. He was so absorbed in his own work that he didn't seem to notice how clumsy I was with my own arrangement. My eyes constantly darted around the room trying to glean something from the others, but there was nothing I could replicate, and no further direction I could receive. I ended up sticking flowers haphazardly on the frog, rearranging and micromanaging to try and fix my mess. In the process, I stood up while trying to work around the towering pine branch and wide leopard leaves shooting out of the lacquer vase. Kaworu did the same, but conducted himself much more gracefully.

After a while, I sat back down with a breathless huff, figuring there was little more I could do to salvage my creation. It's a good thing the flowers were lovely enough on their own, because the cluttered mess I threw together was really an embarrassment.

"Are you finished?" Kaworu asked, sitting down shortly after I did and glancing up at my arrangement.

"I guess so...," I replied defeatedly. "I can't think of anything else to do."

"Would you like to hear my opinion?"

I was surprised that he bothered to ask at all, since I figured he would just give it anyway. I nodded fervently, even though I feared it wouldn't be very good.

"I think, personally, that you are very,"--he paused, my breath was caught--"cautious, with your arrangement style. You treated the materials with a lot of reservation and care, and as a result, they kept much of their natural beauty. Your piece is more on the rustic side, which is quite common with beginners. I might guess that you would enjoy more modern styles that rely less on ancient rules of line and angle, and more on intuition. That is, if you were to pursue the craft any further. It's very lovely, especially for your first time."

"Oh...wow..."That was the last thing I expected to hear. I looked at his arrangement, and saw that it was indeed much more meticulous, minimal and stiff, following curves and lines that he bent them to. Mine, by comparison, looked cluttered and overgrown.

"What do you think about your piece?" he asked.

"Um, I think is..." I stared at it for awhile, looking up and down the entirely of the arrangement, then glancing at his. "Um...I don't know what..terms to use, or anything, but...I feel like it's a little...much. It doesn't feel right. Like there's too much here, and that I messed up some parts of the plants by not treating them properly. I don't think I know how to handle them yet."

"The wonderful thing about arranging plants is the therapeutic quality." Kaworu said, reaching over to my vase and turning it in slow circles. "I think that once you grow in confidence, you will be able to control your piece to your satisfaction, and find it very rewarding."

"Th...thank you.

"How do you like it so far, making arrangments?"

"Um...I'm not really sure yet," I responded honestly. "The...flowers are nice. I guess it was kind of relaxing at times, even though I had no idea what I was doing. It was more relaxing than most of the things I do."

"It seemed like you were trying very hard to achieve something specific. What was it?"

I looked at his arrangement again. "I want to be able to make something like yours. I was scared to do too much to the flowers--the, materials or whatever--cause they look so good on their own. I didn't want to mess up them up by cutting something off or doing too much. But you were able to make each flower look even better than they did before, and I wanna be able to do that, too."

"I was only applying my own force as one living thing to another living thing," he said. "In some ways, it's quite a brutal thing to do. I have taken these items and changed them from what they were, however slightly, because some part of me thinks that I can make them better. As any other artist might, I approach each of my arrangements with the hope that I will be able to find its beauty without changing it to suit my needs, and that it will...change me instead, I think."

"I never thought of it that way...thinking of it changing you is probably what makes it therapeutic, right?"

"That's right. At least, it does for me. It might be different for other people."

We lapsed into silence again. I wasn't sure what Kaworu was thinking, or if he was even as cognizant of the silence as I was. I reached up to my arrangement and started to gently pull the flowers out of the frog. They were more or less intact in their original form, so they looked just the same when I pulled them out as when I had first picked them up. I could feel Kaworu watching me and not doing much else.

It was probably strange of me to pull apart my arrangement the way I did. I didn't see anyone else tearing theirs down, and the way Kaworu's gaze lingered on me told me that it wasn't common. Regardless, I had to take it apart. I needed to do something with myself, and the only thing I could think of was to disassemble my work. To return it to what it was before I tampered with it.

I looked at the materials after setting them on the table, briefly considering rearranging them in the container. I thought about pruning them the same way Kaworu pruned his, twisting and bending them audaciously the way I saw him doing it. I thought about memorizing every bend and curve of his arrangement and emulating it completely, because that was the only way I could make it what I liked.

That would have been pathetic, though, so I just sat back down.

"I think I'm done." I said, staring at the lacquer vase I chose.

"That's alright. Our time here is almost up, anyway. I will have to clean up once everyone leaves, in time for the next club to come in."

"I could help you clean!"

Kaworu laughed, because I said that rather loudly and my enthusiasm was no doubt obvious. He shrugged a little, gently picking up his vase and carrying it over to a windowsill. "That would be nice, if you'd like to."

Most of the club members had left by that point, and only a handful remained in a small circle with that girl, Mari. They were having their own quiet conversation, seated around their respective arrangements, all of which were stunning and flowed much in the same way that Kaworu's did. Kaworu busied himself with gathering up the scraps he had cut from his own materials, and I followed suit as soon as I was able. A few times, I noticed Mari staring at me with that devious smile, and it made my tasks infinitely more difficult.


	5. 5

After weeks of no sync tests at NERV, I received a call from Dr. Akagi. This came as a surprise, since she usually didn't speak to me outside of appointments, and delegated those sorts of things to Misato.

"I am calling to inform you of your next scheduled harmonics test, Shinji," she said from the other end of the phone. Or rather, recited tonelessly as if reading from a script. "Please be at the Hakone-Yumoto train station tomorrow by four thirty in the afternoon, where Major Katsuragi will be waiting for you as usual."

I didn't even bother to respond, because I heard her hanging up the moment she finished her statement.

That call came to me the day after I met Kaworu and visited the Ikebana Circle for the first time. I can't say the sudden return of appointments came as much of a surprise, I was expecting that to happen at some point or another. The timing was a little odd, if anything, but it didn't matter much.

The train ride went about the same as usual, though my tape started sounding a little warped around "Ode to Joy". I met Misato in front of the train station right on time, despite the afternoon rush. She went through the routine of kissing and hitting on me, asking how school was going and all of that. I met it with weary disinterest until we fell into a silence.

"Hey, Dr. Akagi told me you asked her about the other test subjects a few weeks ago." Misato said.

"Yeah. I was curious about what other people's sync rates looked like compared to mine."

"Weell," Her tone lilted, as if she were going to say something exciting. "The fact that you asked kinda gave her an idea."

"Really?"

"Yep. She's been talking about letting subjects monitor and interact with each other outside of sync tests. Sort of like a community building exercise. She's already brought it up to some of the participants in the past few days."

"Wow, that's...unexpected."

"You won't be given full access to the tests, mind you," she said. "Consent has to be given by the subject being observed, first of all. After that, the monitoring participant will be allowed access to a few truncated video recordings. They won't be able to see as much as Dr. Akagi can see, it's just to give an idea of how you perform during your sync tests. How would you feel doing something like that?"

I had never given thought to it, before. I was used to the knowledge that I was monitored constantly by a team of scientists, but the thought of some other random person seeing my sync tests was odd.

"That doesn't sound too bad...I don't really know for sure yet, though."

"It's okay, you don't have to give an answer right now or anything. Ritsuko will have all the info. Only one other subject has agreed to being observed so far, I doubt it'll pass the trial run if there aren't enough participants. Just somethin' to think about!"

It certainly was something to think about. Thoughts of it followed me through to the lobby entrance where I swiped my ID card, and proceeded with me to the Terminal Room where I met Dr. Akagi. I was greeted with her usual restrained smile, and she made no mention of the trial. I thought to ask, but figured she would give me the information whenever she saw fit. She wasn't very good about answering questions out of the blue, anyway.

The tests were the same. I even caught myself yawning while inside the capsule. The low vibrations of the machine and soft interjections of Dr. Akagi's readouts almost lulled me to sleep.

When the it was over, I was still drowsy with boredom. I really wanted to just skip the evaluation and head back to my dorm for a nap, but of course that was impossible.

"You seem tired today, Shinji." Dr. Akagi said when I sat down, still yawning, in the evaluation room.

"Yeah, I dunno. I'm kinda drained today, I guess."

"Oh? Any reason in particular?" She was already scribbling, and I didn't even have enough energy to be annoyed by it.

"I joined a club a couple days ago."

"That sounds nice. What kind of club?"

"Flower arrangement."

"Do you like it?"

"I don't know yet. I'd never done anything like it before, so I'm still learning the basics."

"Well, it is never a bad idea to make time for club activities," Dr. Akagi said warmly, tapping the clipboard with her pen. "If you find that it conflicts with your Synchronization Test schedule, there is always the option to move your appointments around a bit, within reason."

"Okay."

"Any significant depressive spells?"

"Six." I defaulted to the scale, because I felt like it.

"Anxiety?"

"Eight...no, wait...seven."

"Suicidal thoughts?"

"No."

"Overall comfort level?"

"I dunno," I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling with a sigh. "Why don't you pick this time?"

"You know I can't do that, Shinji. That would defeat the purpose."

"I didn't know that question had a purpose. I just thought you were making conversation."

Dr. Akagi chuckled, scribbling something in anyway. "We'll just say it's about the same as last time."

"That works."

"On another note," She finally halted her scribbling and set her clipboard down, leaning forward as she spoke. "I wanted to inform you of a new trial to be enacted during the coming weeks. I am sure Major Katsuragi mentioned it on the way here."

"Yeah, briefly. Something about participants monitoring each other's tests."

"That is the gist of it, yes. NERV has decided to initiate a trial run of the Participant Interaction Project, as the result of some inquiries into the process by some of the participants."

When Dr. Akagi said it that way, it sounded much less appealing than how Misato described it. I think part of me wanted to take credit for making a difference in procedure, even though I didn't really feel like I had.

"It has come to our attention," she continued, "that as we move closer to exercises requiring test subjects to cooperate with one another, it is essential to take steps toward building a rapport between you all."

"That sounds reasonable." I said that, despite only understanding half of what she said.

"The primary aspect of these interactions will be the observations that Misato mentioned to you. With the permission of a subject, recorded sync tests and some information about them will be made available for observation by other subjects. So, if you were to consent to participation, for instancei nstanc recordings of your harmonics tests could be viewed by another subject who has given their consent, and vice versa."

"So it's like a pen pal program? Just with test results instead of mail."

"I suppose you could compare it to that, yes."

"How much would be available for the others to see?"

"Just a short recording taken from the Test Capsule's internal video feed. No personal information outside of the subject's name, duration of the test, and rudimentary sync ratio during the test."

"So they would only see me inside the capsule, and kinda have an idea of what my sync rates are."

"Yes."

I hummed, feeling a little warmer to the idea than I did previously. "Can I pull out of it if I change my mind?"

"Of course. You have the right to consent to persons below a certain clearance level at any time."

"Hm...okay, then. I'd like to do it."

"Wonderful." Dr. Akagi smiled wide and flipped through the papers on her clipboard. She pulled out a stack of forms and slid them over to me with a pen. "Just sign and initial in the designated areas. Included within that packet is detailed information of what is released, and the projected timeline of the trial period."

"O...kay..." I said, uneasy about the imposing formality of having to sign papers. "When does it start?"

"Today, actually, since you are the second person to have officially given consent," She flipped through the papers on her clipboard. "Two participants is all we need to initiate the trial, but it helps to have a larger pool to draw from down the line."

I nodded with my brow furrowed, staring at the forms and trying to understand them as I signed. It was a futile effort, though, as they were written in that winding huge-word language common in important legal documents. That was always the most intimidating part of these forms, it always felt like signing my life away. Though technically I had already done that by being in the study to begin with.

"I will escort you to the observation room in a moment. The other participant in the trial will be able to do the same during their next appointment."

"I'll be watching it by myself?"

"No. An appointed guardian will be present during all of your viewing sessions."

I nodded again, figuring the guardian was a given, but satisfied with her answer. I was glad that I wouldn't be sitting there with other participants at the same time. I didn't actually want to talk to any of them, after all, I just wanted to make sure that my test results weren't behind.

"Now that everything seems to be in order, please follow me to the observation room." Dr. Akagi said finitely, standing from her chair and reattaching the forms to her clipboard.

I followed her as we proceeded back to the lobby, through one of the many branching hallways, and into an elevator. As we made our way along, she held one hand to her ear and muttered inaudibly. I assumed she had an earpiece and was talking to someone, though I couldn't hear what she said. In a way she was being incredibly rude, but I understood too well how things worked around NERV.

The elevator crept downward, ticking minutely as the side panel counted each floor. Dr. Akagi stood facing forward with her hands nestled in her pockets. I felt like I should ask her more questions about what I was about to do, but didn't. I couldn't phrase them properly, and the answers to them would probably just go over my head anyway.

The elevator stopped at B-15 (farther down than I had ever gone) and the doors slid open to reveal a green hallway identical to the ones upstairs. Dr. Akagi stepped brusquely out of the elevator and I had to jog to keep up with her.

She stopped at a windowless white door that looked like all of the others in the hallway, set apart by the words "OBSERVATION ROOM 03" painted in black.

Dr. Akagi leaned forward to swipe her keycard in a slot next to the door. It beeped and we were granted entry to a dim room, heavily padded with soundproof foam and carpeting. Four swiveling office chairs were neatly arranged in front of a white display screen. Above them, a digital projector hung from the ceiling. One of the chairs was occupied by Misato, who wheeled around to face the door and wave at us.

"Hey Shinji!"  She looked more officially decorated than when she picked me up that day, which made her casual greeting feel a little odd. She now donned the brown uniform jacket, skirt, and beret. Both her jacket and hat covered in their various military badges and accoutrements. I had only seen her wear this outfit once, it made her look far more imposing.

"Major Katsuragi will be your guardian for today's viewing session," Dr. Akagi said, gesturing for me to take a seat. "She will provide further details and answer any questions you may have, as authorized. I have other affairs to attend to, so I hope you enjoy your session."

"O-okay. Bye, Dr. Akagi--" I turned around to look at her after sitting down, but she was already halfway out the door.

"I convinced her to let me be your guardian." Misato muttered once the door had swung shut. "I figured some nameless stiff you'd never seen before wouldn't have been willing to answer many of your questions, and I'm sure you have a lot at this point."

"Yeah...so many I can't even really settle on one."

"That's understandable. So much of this information is classified on so many levels that it's unlikely I'll be able to answer all of them, but I'll try my best."

I felt a little more relaxef, grateful that she was there. Misato could be chatty sometimes, but she seemed in a more work-oriented mindset, so I probably wouldn't have to worry about that as much. I had actually never been around her while she was "working", only before and after the tests and in her car. I enjoyed this change in her attitude much more.

"Okay so," She fished a folded piece of paper out of her pocket, hastily straightened it out and read from it. "We will be watching a total of five video clips from a curated selection of synchronization tests for one subject. You may ask questions before, during, and after each viewing. I am not authorized to answer all questions, and will alert you as such if I have not been given clearance to blah blah blah...mhm. It carries on like that for a few more paragraphs." She puffed and folded up the paper, looking at me afterward. "Figure out any questions so far?"

"Not yet."

"Okay, cool. Start the video." She said, pressing a finger to her ear similarly to how Dr. Akagi had done. I wondered who was on the other end of it--maybe a film operator, or tech person in a booth somewhere, sitting with their hand over a play button. Moments later, the projector turned on and covered the white screen in blue. As it loaded, the overhead lights dimmed until they went out.

The projector's loading screen went from bright blue to black, showing coded information in white text:

SYNCHRONIZATION TEST RECORD T-1388040  
SUBJECT: FIFTH C., NAGISA KAWORU  
05/18/2019  
TEST START: 11:30:37s  
TRUNCATED RECORDING START

"Nagisa..." My brow furrowed as I whispered this to myself, glancing over the information again to make sure I read that right, but missing it as the screen changed.

A new screen faded into view, showing a video feed that glowed a familiar shade of blue. Front and center to the camera was a placid face, eyes closed and hair floating in the surrounding LCL. I couldn't see much past their neck, though one corner of the screen displayed more text:

NAGISA KAWORU  
TEST PLUG: 05-A  
MONITOR ON  
\--00.0%

The face I saw couldn't have been mistaken. Sitting in the capsule, with eyes closed and lips drawn into an uncanny grin, was none other than Kaworu. My Kaworu--or rather, the one I knew of, that I had met so strangely and recently. His hair was shorter, though, and he looked noticeably younger. I was so absorbed in disbelief, that I couldn't be shocked or angry, or whatever else I might have been. I was just confused, and that feeling of having too many questions to ask only increased.

According to the date on the previous screen, this recording had been taken two years ago. I would have been shocked if I weren't so confused, and even more curious.

There was a half-second of audio static, then Dr. Akagi's voice came through the speakers.

"A-10 nerve proxy connection stable. Opening Bi-Directional circuits."

Kaworu the test subject didn't respond at all to her voice. He didn't even seem to be breathing, by the lack of movement in his face. I thought back to the majority of my sync tests, how I struggled through trying not to suffocate, and how I had to take huge gulps of LCL before my breathing even came close to normal. Kaworu seemed almost meditative in the bubbling liquid, as if he belonged there. He looked like he was sleeping peacefilly. I squinted to try and make out his features more clearly, but they were washed out and homogenous in that blue light. It was an eerie sight, and his paleness was even more pronounced. He looked a little like a corpse.

I wondered briefly if that's what I looked like inside the Test Capsule. Once I stopped choking and gurgling, that is.

"Initial Synchronization rate, taken at 11h30, 13 seconds after preliminary contacts: 42.3%."

The "--00.0%" infographic at the corner of the screen cycled rapidly through random sets of numbers before falling on "42.3%". It fluctuated a little every few seconds by about a tenth of a percentage, but more or less stayed the same.

Still no reaction from Kaworu, and no pleasant aside from Dr. Akagi. I could hear the burbling interior of the Test Capsule as if I were inside of it, and my skin tingled at the thought.

The percentage jumped around again and again, mostly rising, until it flickered at several values in the high seventies.

"Secondary Synchronization rate, taken 2 minutes and 12 seconds after preliminary contacts: 75.7%"

"Wow..." I said aloud.

"Mmh?" Misato asked, having just emerged from the tail end of a yawn as I made my exclamation. "Got a question?"

"N-no, nothing, sorry," I shrank back into myself, embarrassed by such an involuntary reaction. "It's just...I've never had a sync rate that high before."

"Oh...yeah, um. Don't feel too bad about that, honestly," Misato responded, with an uneasy pause in her tone. "This guy is kind of a special case."

"T-tertiary Synchronization rate," Dr. Akagi's voice reemerged. For the first time, I heard her stumble uncertainly over her own words. "Taken at...2 minutes, 37 seconds a-after preliminary contacts: 89.4%..."

"Oh?" A smooth voice rose up after hers, and finally I saw Kaworu move. He opened one eye and stared straight forward, as if he could see the camera. "Is there a problem, doctor?"

Dr. Akagi said nothing. The number at the bottom of the screen read 89.5% in that instant, but continued to rise at a steady pace.

"Ah, I see," Kaworu said, to no one in particular. The way the audio was played in the room--through surround-sound speakers dampened by soundproof foam--made him sound large and everywhere around me, but his tone was ever gentle as I remembered it. I realized just then how high the volume was, and how powerful his voice could be.

"Perhaps an even number might nicer," he said. "For your records."

Then, as if on cue, the percentage in the corner of the screen made a rapid and indecipherable change. The numbers shifted around for several quiet seconds, before stopping squarely at 209.9%

"Ah, I overshot a little but."

"What on earth!" Dr. Akagi exclaimed, and I could hear a muffled clattering as if she had dropped something.

"The numbers didn't come out quite even, did they? Sorry about that...it is hard to think of it in numbers from here."

Kaworu's smile widened, and his gaze remained unblinking in the camera. I felt as if he were looking at me, even though that was impossible. The feeling was so acute, though, and so unnerving that I had to look away from the video.

Dr. Akagi's frazzled voice came over the PA System again, almost breathless, "Terminating Synchronization test at 11h36, f-final synchronization rate at 210.0%...d-draining... draining the Test Capsule of LCL--"

The video cut off at that point, and the idle white screen of the projector remained in its place.

"Like I said, he's a special case," Misato pulled her arms up over her head to stretch, casually filling the silence where I was frozen in disbelief. "That boy, Kaworu, is the fifth registered test subject to join the EUA Research Study. That footage was from his first Synchronization Test, conducted a little under a year before you started participating regularly in the study. Dr. Akagi and her team are still not entirely certain, but this test caused them to believe that he is capable of manipulating his harmonics at will. No one has ever had a sync ratio even close to being that high, and the way he predicted it raises even more questions."

"What happened to him?" I asked incredulously. "I mean, it's not like NERV would let something like that slip through the cracks."

"Yeah, everyone was freaking out about it for awhile. The incident launched a month-long investigation into the matter to ensure that his results and the equipment used to monitor him hadn't been tampered with. During that time, Kaworu was held within headquarters--voluntarily, of course, don't give me that look--but wasn't tested for a few weeks after that. We actually had to hault all testing during that time."

"What did they find?"

"The results of the investigation and his time in our care have been inconclusive thus far."

"Did they give up on it?"

"Nope. Kaworu still participates in routine sync tests, the same as any one of you guys. The doctors don't know what to do with him, but still wanna collect as much data as possible so they can figure out what his deal is."

"Are...are all of his tests like that?" I asked, finally getting to the heart of what I was really wondering.

"The first few were like that. Subsequent tests have yielded mild results at best, sometimes downright pitiful. Dr. Akagi suspects that he may be undershooting them on purpose, based on the information I just told you."

"Sheesh..."

"You wanna watch another one?"

"We have to watch _another one_?"

"Well, we don't _have_ to," Misato said, pressing her finger to her ear again. "But we are scheduled for five. We could stop right here if you want and just talk. Or I'll take you back to the train station."

I almost assented to that, but at the same time I couldn't. If I was curious before watching the video, I was dying to see more by the end of it. There was so much about it that I needed to parse, and so little that I understood. After the initial shock of finding out that Kaworu was a participant in these studies, I was enraptured to see him excel at them in ways I couldn't even begin to comprehend.

"Maybe...we can watch one more. Just to see what happens later on."

"Okay," Misato said, checking her watch and pulling out another piece of paper. "I'll pick a more recent one so it's not as jarring. Start video number four."

The projector whirred and the screen changed once more, going through a similar gamut of place cards and title screens before the actual video began. This video was dated in the current year, a few months before the semester started.

After the title screens came a similar display; Kaworu sat placidly in the Test Capsule, eyes closed, with machinery humming in the background. Bubbles rose from his nose, and his mouth rested in its half-smile. He looked a more subdued and like I was used to seeing him, compared to the fresh-faced glow he had in the previous video.

Dr. Akagi recited his sync ratios: 45.4%, 40.0%, 42.5%, 41.3%.

Kaworu's face remained still. There were no more of his cryptic grins and cheeky little comments. Dr. Akagi sounded clinical, maybe even a bit bored as she spoke.

"You are finished for the day, Nagisa," Dr. Akagi said after the last sync ratio. "Draining the Test Capsule of LCL. Proceed to the evaluation room at your leisure."

"Sure, sure," Kaworu replied, opening his eyes and reaching behind his head to stretch. "I hope I performed well today, doctor."

"The performance probably could have been much better, knowing you. But you did well enough, I suppose." Dr. Akagi said. Kaworu only chuckled in response, and the video ended there.

The lights brightened once more, and the projector switched to its idle screen. Considerably less time seemed to have passed in that video than the one before it.

"That's it?" I said, turning to Misato.

"What do you mean 'that's it'? I told you his tests got way more boring after the first few." She said, holding her hands up with a helpless smile.

"Yeah, but, it just didn't seem...right," I said, unsure of what I meant until I paused to think about it. "...I mean, he was definitely holding back, for sure. Why, though? What changed between that test and the ones before it?"

"It's hard to say. Dr. Akagi and the others aren't sure how to measure his progress, or lack thereof." Misato's face went solemn as she spoke. "He's all over the map, now. Every so often he'll do marginally well, but seems to be avoiding another spectacle like his first test. He's being given twice the amount of scheduled tests to see if they can narrow down the variables even by a little bit."

"Hmm..."

"I take it you're interested, then?" Misato almost immediately flashed a leering smile.

"What? Why are you looking like that? I-I don't--"

"I'm kiiidding." She said, though I'm not entirely certain what the joke was. She was definitely implying something. "If you want, I can cycle back through the queue so we can watch the rest. They're all pretty short, so we can knock 'em out in like thirty minutes."

"Okay. I wanna see how the others went. Try to understand how this works."

"Pfft, if you find something that a team of scientists couldn't see after pouring over this footage for weeks on end, go ahead and let them know. I'm sure they'd be thrilled to pick your brain about it."

I waved off her comments and waited impatiently for her to play the rest of the videos. We watched the first video again, at my request, and I was just as mystified as the first time. The second and third videos were spaced out from the first by a few months, with results that still flew off the charts, but in a much less shocking way. The fourth and fifth videos, as I was shown, contained the more normal, lukewarm results.

Despite my best efforts, I couldn't find anything satisfactory in the videos. Granted, I was privy to a lot less information about the tests than Dr. Akagi and the others were, and I didn't understand nearly as much about the information, but I couldn't stop myself from searching. I looked in Kaworu's face for the answers, in the numbers on the screen, the way the bubbles drifted in the LCL. Anything that I could interpret, that I could use for myself to be better. But I found nothing. Just like arranging flowers with him, I could only gawk helplessly at his perfection, wanting desperately to emulate or even understand it, but knowing I couldn't.

When the viewing session was over, I was more confused than when it started. Misato was tickled by the futile questions I asked, because she couldn't answer them but I kept asking anyway. I wanted to find Dr. Akagi and ask her, but after a moment's thought I realized that would be even less helpful.

"I just don't get it," I said, exasperated as we rode the elevator back up to the lobby. "I can't even understand what the sync ratios are used for, much less how to control them. Saying that Kaworu is 'a special case' seems like kind of an understatement."

"You're really hung up on this, huh?" Misato said. I had basically been harping on the same point infinitely without answer. "Are you jealous?"

"No, that's not it...I-I mean, kind of, but not," I paused and sighed, rubbing my forehead as I replayed the clips in my mind. "Ugh, I'm not jealous. I don't really know what it is, but it's not that. I just...want to figure him out. I don't like not knowing about stuff that's really important, and that everyone else seems to know about."

"Join the club, kiddo," Misato sighed heavily, taking off her hat. "Imagine if it was your _job_ to know, and you still didn't understand half of what was going on. You just kinda listen to orders and make really huge judgement calls with only half of the information everyone else has."

I went quiet again. The elevator ticked as we went up a few more floors, then stopped at the lobby.

"I wonder how my dad feels about it."

"I don't think anyone could tell you that. He reacts to it just about the same as everything else--like a vaguely interesting, sort of odd, maybe annoying thing. Nothing more, nothing less. He does seem to focus a lot of priority on it, in his own way, so maybe he's curious."

The lobby was in view from where we walked. Just as we were about to step into it, I was assaulted by the sound of a door being slammed, and someone yelling, "Don't give me that bullshit! I know EXACTLY what you're trying to say!"

I furrowed my brow and looked to Misato, whose face was washed over with an emotion I had never seen before. I stopped in my tracks just outside of the elevator, afraid of what awaited us beyond the hallway.

Angry footsteps thundered through the lobby, and with them came a lanky girl with wild orange hair, whipping about from the force of her movements. She was clearly on a rampage, and I didn't care to be caught in her crosshairs.

Misato took a deep breath and put her hat back on, steeling herself as if she were going into battle. She proceeded quickly down the hall, her footsteps even sharper than usual.

Dr. Akagi came up a few moments later, catching up with the girl and panting, "Asuka, please. I don't know...what you think I was insinuating...or trying to say...I only meant that sync ratios change often, so there's no definitive way of--"

"You think you can pussyfoot around with that diplomatic cop-out bullshit? You probably feed that crap to all the other peons who take these tests, but that will NOT work on me." The girl, Asuka, stopped walking but continued to stomp her feet and clench  her fists.

As Misato's footsteps cut through the pause, Asuka looked in our direction and froze for a moment, squinting and resting her eyes on me. I panicked and went red, glancing around for somewhere to hide.

"...hey...Hey! You! Over there! Did you have a test today? Huh? DID YOU? What was your tertiary sync ratio, huh!?"

I ignored her completely; I thought I could pretend she was talking to someone else and walk toward the turnstiles at the edge of the lobby unaccosted. I figured Misato and Dr. Akagi would know how to handle this, and I could just wait by the car.

I hardly made it a few feet away before Asuka was on my trail. She caught up within a few steps and pulled me back by my shirt collar, glowering once my face met hers.

"Asuka!" Dr. Akagi and Misato said in unison, bearing down on her as she shook me.

"Don't you hear me talking to you? Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?"

"I-I...I d-don't know...wh...what..." I couldn't speak over the lump in my throat, and had a thought that it was probably my heart trying to crawl out of my mouth. My chest was so tight that I couldn't breathe, and my face burned so red it hurt a little.

I looked to Misato as she stomped over and pulled Asuka away from me with surprising force. I just fell to the floor, my hands shaking and sweaty. They slipped a little as I tried to rest them on the hard tile.

"Calm down, Asuka." Misato snapped, and for a split second I didn't recognize her. The way her voice resonated and her muscles tensed, she seemed to become a completely different person; her posture stiff as a board and her eyes glaring daggers. I felt like I was really seeing Major Katsuragi (not just Misato) for the first time.

Asuka went quiet, but sneered back and didn't seem any less angry than before. Misato turned to Dr. Akagi and said, "What the hell is wrong with her this time?"

Dr. Akagi cleared her throat and pushed up her glasses, having caught her breath.

Asuka's silent glare had shifted down to me, burning with a vitriol I had never seen from a stranger.

"Asuka is upset because she misinterpreted god only knows whatever I did or didn't say. She seems to believe that Harmonics tests are a competition and that she 'lost' to one of the other participants. Whatever that means." Dr. Akagi had regained herself more or less, but was still fuming enough that she hadn't turned clinical yet.

"What did you say to her exactly, Ritsuko?"

"I was explaining the Participant Interaction Project to her again, during which she flew into a rage over her sync ratios. True, they were a little lower than usual today, but it isn't as if--"

"Aah! I don't want to hear it! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Asuka began screaming again and covered up her ears, making noises now to block it all out. Misato shook her a little to make her stop, then let go of her collar.

"Asuka, the harmonics tests are _not_ a competition!" Misato yelled again, jostling her a bit by the scruff of her neck.

"I was always the best in _Germany_! I was still the best when I got here! My numbers were higher than anyone else's and you know it! None of your equipment ever works! If my sync ratios are low, it's her fault."

"It has nothing to do with me or the equipment," Dr. Akagi said in an affronted tone. "Sync ratios _fluctuate_ , Asuka. These things _happen_. It could be anything from a change in environment to a change in the subject's subconscious state. Probably various other factors that NERV Germany hasn't figured out, either."

"Is he the one that beat me?" Asuka asked, ignoring what Dr. Akagi had just said and pointing at me. She spoke more quietly now, but no less bitterly.

"His sync ratios were not higher than yours in this round, if you really must know. As I was trying to explain to you, you can opt-in to the Participant Interaction Project and find out things like that in calm, professional way."

"Hmph." Asuka folded her arms, then looked down at me. From where I sat on the floor, she seemed incredibly tall. I don't think she really was, but everything about her personality was bigger and louder than me. The look in her eyes had shifted from righteous anger to haughty disdain. I felt as if she were disgusted by me, even though I had done nothing to her.

"...I guess he looks too weak anyway." she said, as if coming to a final verdict on something. I would have felt insulted if I weren't so flabbergasted by the whole thing.

"Now that you've had your little fit, would you please come back to the evaluation room so we can finish up."

"Fine. I've got some questions about your stupid interaction program thing, anyway."

Dr. Akagi trudged back toward the evaluation room, her steps a lot louder and more uneven than they usually were. Asuka shot me another glare before sticking out her tongue and stomping off.

"What the hell was that?" I asked Misato, after we had been left in silence for a few moments.

"That was Asuka. Another one of the participants flown in from NERV Germany. She has a temper, if you couldn't tell." Misato said, rubbing the bridge of her nose and walking off toward the turnstiles.

"Yeesh. I felt like she was gonna kill me. I didn't even do anything..."

"Yeah, she has that effect on people."

Once we had left the lobby and were headed off to the car, I managed to talk myself down into a much calmer state. Thinking back on the incident, I wondered how she would react to seeing Kaworu's test scores. If just hinting at her scores being lower (whatever they were normally) sent her into that much of a rage, I shuddered to think how she would react to what I saw before meeting her.

Once in the car, Misato immediately turned on the radio and peeled off from the garage. She was still grumbling and rubbing her temples as she said to me, "We're going to a bar."

"But I don't drink."

"They have a vending machine. You'll be fine."


	6. 6

"Ikari! Are you listening!?"

I woke up to the frantic buzzing of my alarm clock in a state of hazy panic. Kensuke was poking my side and yelling something at me, but I couldn't hear him over the alarm. After a few seconds of lying in a daze, I sat up and turned off the buzzer.

"Jeez, Shinji! You sleep like a corpse." He said in an exasperated tone, dumping his books on the bed beside me. "I thought you were gonna get a new alarm clock."

"Sorry..." I said distantly. The voice I had heard calling out to me before wasn't Kensuke's; it sounded like Asuka. I wasn't sure if Kensuke actually said those words to me, or if I had dreamed them up in Asuka's voice. My heart was pounding hard with some residual fear, which felt odd for how sleepy I was.

I looked at my alarm clock and blinked slowly until the numbers made sense; it was two forty-five in the afternoon.

"I...missed Edo Lit."

I said those words aloud before the realization had truly dawned on me, and in waves I realized what they meant. "I missed Edo Lit...I  missed a class! Oh my god! I slept through a whole class!"

"Yeah man, I dunno what to tell you," Kensuke said remissively, rubbing the back of his neck. "I woke you up like two and a half hours ago. You were packing your things when I left, and I figured you'd head there afterward. Then I noticed you weren't in class when the bell rang, which was super weird. I thought something might have happened."

"Ugh, man...I messed up." I spoke slowly, rubbing my face and slapping my cheeks to dispel the last dregs of sleep that just wouldn't budge.

"It's okay though, you didn't really miss anything. We just talked about Western influences on Edo Literature leading into the Meiji period, nothing crucial. I wrote down some notes, and you can probably find details of the homework in the syllabus. Speaking of which, we have a research paper due on Monday."

Contrary to his expressions, all of that sounded _incredibly_ crucial. I told myself to ask for those notes later, when I could remember how to think.

"You seemed pretty out of it even when I woke you up, though. Kinda disconnected, like you were sleepwalking or just running on auto or something."

"Oh..." I said, a little embarrassed and confused by his specific choice of words.

"Maybe you should see the counselor or something. Mellow out a bit...oh! How about joining some of the more low maintenance circles! It could help out with your stress and motivation."

"I dunno if adding more commitments to my schedule would do much for my stress, Kensuke."

"No, seriously!" He was getting excited now, which I desperately wished to avoid at that moment. "Studies show that extracurricular activities in a strenuous academic environment can do wonders for a student's overall stress management and mental health! Trust me, there's definitive evidence."

His advice came at a bad time, as it had been about two weeks since I had visited the Ikebana circle. After seeing Kaworu's sync tests, there was no way I could face him. I wasn't sure if he knew I was a participant in the EUA Research Study as well, or if he had already seen my tests by then. I didn't want him to ask me any questions, or recognize me the way Kensuke had.

On top of that, I was already dealing with an increase in the number of appointments I had at NERV. Where there was previously a lull in sync tests, it seemed now that they were making up for lost time. I ended up visiting NERV every day after class, and early in the morning on the one day that I had off. It was exhausting to be stuffed in that capsule so many times a week, especially considering the tests themselves were running for longer times than before.

"I'll look into it," I said. "If I find the time. No promises, though."

"Far be it from you to commit or anything." Kensuke just laughed in response. "Anyway get up for real this time, we still have one more class. I'm gonna walk behind you to make sure you don't fall asleep in the hallway or something."

I groaned, but still picked myself up out bed to follow him. All jokes aside, I was mildly put off by the fact that I had been running on autopilot for several hours--enough so to have woken up and packed my things only to crawl back into bed and sleep through an entire class. I was never sure how to bring myself out of autopilot once it started, at least not on purpose. I usually just snapped out of it within a few minutes at random. It did seem to be getting worse with this increase in tests at NERV. Perhaps it was a side effect of spending so much time in the LCL.

It was probably a concern that I should bring up with Dr. Akagi at my next appointment, if I cared enough to do so by that point.

I drifted off several times while in class--never falling asleep or going fully automatic, but definitely spacing out. It felt like daydreaming, only I wasn't imagining anything particularly pleasant. All that came to mind was an image of the Test Capsule interior, and the rusty-iron smell of LCL. I imagined little bubbles drifting up from my lips when I exhaled, and heard the hums and beeps of the capsule interior. I didn't enjoy imagining these things, though I couldn't say I disliked the thought of them too strongly either. The Test Capsule was becoming increasingly familiar to me, the way doing laundry or going to the grocery store so many times a week becomes familiar. It was just an errand now. A pointless, grinding, confusing, simple errand.

When class ended, I couldn't hang around too long with Kensuke since I had to make yet another appointment that day. I managed a short goodbye before jogging toward the train station, fumbling with my headphones absentmindedly. I didn't even have time to get a sandwich from the convenience store as usual, since I was cutting it close enough to the train's departure. My stomach growled the whole way, more from the change in routine than any real hunger.

I kept my music turned up and hummed every song to keep myself grounded while on the train. Thankfully, I had missed the evening rush hour, and the train car was basically empty except for one or two other people.

When I arrived at the terminal and exited the station, I was surprised to see that Misato wasn't there yet. Despite her lackadaisical nature, she was usually on time with picking me up from the station. I had to wait around for about ten minutes before her car came screeching up to the bench where I sat.

"Sorry about that, Shinji." She smiled, but with a dull tone that betrayed her weariness. "Took a surprise nap at my desk and kinda lost track of time."

"It's okay. The same thing's been happening to me lately." I said while climbing in. Misato said nothing as I put my seatbelt on, and didn't lean over for her usual kiss once I was settled. I had never seen her so tired that she missed the opportunity to make that joke, but didn't complain either.

"These extra hours are running me ragged," she said while pulling off. "Everyone at headquarters is either strung out on energy drinks, or ambling around half asleep...I don't think I've had a proper lunch in two weeks." An unlit cigarette was nestled behind her ear, her dark hair tumbling around it in a way that made it bend slightly. She was hunched forward over the steering wheel, gripping it tightly with one hand while she fished around in the center console with the other.

"I didn't realize you and everyone else were working so hard, too," I said. "I thought there were just more tests for the participants."

"More tests for you guys means more work for everybody, even if the work is unrelated to the tests. It's a domino effect. The only ones who seem to be unaffected by it are Dr. Akagi and your dad. I mean, they're the ones that have the most say over the schedule, so I guess that makes sense."

At the mention of my father, I turned my head toward the window. It was my way of trying to focus on something else.

Misato plucked the cigarette from behind her ear at a red light, putting it between her lips and rummaging around more dutifully in the center console until she produced a lighter. She leaned over the steering wheel again and cupped her hand over the cigarette, clicking the lighter over and over. Occasionally she would look up to make sure the light was still red, muttering to me around the cigarette as she did this.

"Sometimes I think those two flourish conditions that would just about kill anyone else, and they expect everyone else to do the same."

"I didn't know you smoked, Misato." I was actively trying to change the subject now. I hated talking about my dad at length, especially lately.

"I don't, very often. Only when I'm stressed or after sex."

I didn't need to know that, and didn't want to know it. I could tell it wasn't a joke by the way she said it.

"Goddammit...," she was growing visibly more agitated the longer her unlit cigarette remained in her mouth. "This is what happens when I don't get off days. Not one day off in over a month! Working sixteen hour days, to boot...I don't know why they decided to kick everything into overdrive all of a sudden, it doesn't make any sense..."

As she ranted, she weaved in and out of cars and drove a little more recklessly in general. I tensed a little but remained silent, because I knew commenting on it would only work her into a lather.

"There's gotta be some kind of labor law against this, right? I knew I shoulda joined a union...I don't even know if there is a union for the kind of work I do. Stupid scientists...don't they know people have lives?"

"Of course they know, they just don't care." I mumbled bitterly to myself, yawning as Misato just became more agitated.

"Ugh, fuck!" Misato exclaimed, then pullef the car over suddenly and put on the parking brake.

I turned to see her rubbing her temples and humming. She sat like this for several minutes, then exhaled and brought the lighter she was still clutching up to her dangling cigarette. After lighting it, she rolled her window down and leaned back in her seat to take a few puffs. Every movement was deliberate and methodical, as if she were forcing herself to remain calm. Even though the cigarette made me cough, I didn't complain because it could tell she needed it.

"God, I need a drink."

"Me too." I said automatically, even though I didn't mean it. "...Wait, nevermind. I don't know. Does drinking help you calm down? I just know it makes people puke and pass out. I don't want to do those things, I just want to calm down."

Misato turned to me with a look of surprise, then burst into laughter. "It does make people do those things, but it does a lot of other stuff before the puking and passing out part."

"Huh...okay."

"I'd offer to take you out for one, but I don't think Dr. Akagi would approve of that very much. Plus I know how much you hated it when I dragged you to that bar last time."

"One of my roommates drinks like crazy," I said. "He seems to enjoy it, but looks pretty messed up when he's hungover."

"Yeah, it's not for everyone," Misato exhaled slowly now, leaning back in her chair. "I don't think you'd like it, honestly. And it wouldn't be a good idea for you to try."

"Okay."

"I'm serious, actually," she tilted her head toward me for a moment, looking earnest before turning away again. "There's really nothing good about drinking, especially if you drink for a reason. Your friend shouldn't be doing it either, but you can't really tell someone to stop something once they start. It's probably hypocritical to be lecturing you on it anyway, but maybe I can say better than anyone because I know it doesn't help."

We fell into another silence, following a conversation I never thought I would have with Misato. It wasn't often that we connected on things like that, and I got the impression that our conversation was about something much deeper than just drinking. I found myself staring at her cigarette while we sat there, wondering if it tasted as bad as it smelled. I then looked at my phone to check the time, because I couldn't think of what else to do.

"Sorry to dump on you like that. I'm sure you're just as stressed out by this stuff as I am."

"It's okay. It's not like I haven't done the same, I'm just more sarcastic about it." I tried to smile, to be reassuring in some way.

"Yeah." She said, starting the car again and pulling back onto the freeway. I Ihought to ask her if everything was okay, and if there was anything I could do to help, but couldn't find the words. I didn't think I could do much to help her anyway, even if I had asked. It was better just to stay silent.

When we reached NERV and eventually made our way to the lobby, she left me with a shadow of her usual smile. I tried to smile back, but couldn't manage it either. Misato disappeared behind the huge metal door that needed a different keycard. I, in turn, entered the terminal room where Dr. Akagi was waiting for me.

"Hello, Shinji. Good to see you again." Dr. Akagi looked positively radiant with ease.

"Hi--"

Before I had even gotten halfway through my greeting, Dr. Akagi started walking toward the door. Her pace was swift and impatient, and she bypassed a reciprocal greeting by simply saying, "We're a bit off schedule, so let's get right to it."

I was put off by her reaction, sensing a subtle jab at Misato's punctuality. Misato wasn't kidding about Dr. Akagi being unaffected by the atmosphere. Her attitude sent me from depressed to mildly annoyed in a matter of seconds.

We headed toward the Test Capsule chamber where Dr. Akagi immediately set about retrieving my plugsuit and headsets.

"We'll be doing things a bit differently today." She said as she handed these items to me. "Your synchronization tests will be performed in the EUA cage, rather than the Test Capsule chamber. We are moving on to the next phase of the Research Study, which requires a few small changes in procedure."

"Um, okay." I said, completely unsure of what she meant by any of that. Dr. Akagi didn't attach my Interface Headsets this time, nor did she leave the room once I had my things. She simply walked over to the small table in the corner and picked up her clipboard to start flipping through papers.

I stood silently for a moment, but realized pretty quickly that she expected me to change while she was there. I stumbled over my clothing several times in an effort to get dressed as quickly as possible. It helped that she kept her back turned to me, though I ended up taking more time by being self-conscious.

"O-okay, I'm ready." I said with an awkward cough, fumbling with the Interface Headsets in my hair.

"Follow me." Dr. Akagi said, tucking the clipboard under her arm. She then handed me a thick green folder with the words "Welcome to NERV" in black and a red CONFIDENTIAL stamp over it.

We left the room and returned to the lobby, heading to the colossal metal door that Misato usually took when she left me. Dr. Akagi lifted the keycard that hung around her neck and pressed it to a black pad next to the door. There was a small beep, followed by the sound of several heavy locks unlatching. The door opened slowly, groaning under the weight of itself as it did so. Beyond it was a dark hallway illuminated only by dim red lights.

"I don't think I need to tell you this, Shinji," Dr. Akagi began. "But anything you see within NERV headquarters and the GeoFront is strictly classified information. Do you understand?"

"Y..yeah, I know." I said, vaguely concerned that she felt the need to remind me.

She started walking quickly, more quickly than usual, down the lit path and through the abyssal hallway. It was hard for me to keep up with her without jogging, and I was distracted by trying to figure out just how big the space was around us. It was pitch black, so it could have been anywhere from slightly spaced out walls to an entire football field of space. I was also acutely aware of how the it felt to walk around in the plugsuit. It felt less like a wetsuit and more like a sinewy second skin the more I moved in it. The fabric felt like of hundreds of invisible ropes crawling over my muscles and frame with every twitch. I never thought much of it before, but I was usually sitting still inside of a test capsule with it on, so it didn't stand out much. It always seemed to cling to me, no matter how I moved or stretched it, perfectly outlining the shape of my arms and legs as if I was wearing nothing there at all. I briefly imagined that the plugsuit was my skin. Then, for some reason, I imagined myself without skin. But only for a moment.

At the end of the hallway was another metal door, illuminated by a white light overhead. Dr. Akagi swiped her ID card and typed numbers into a small keypad beside it. The door opened and gave way to an ordinary elevator.

I stepped inside after Dr. Akagi and slouched in one of the corners. I still held the crumpled mess of my clothes in one hand, but couldn't do anything else with them at that moment. In my other hand was the green folder. I fumbled to break the paper seal and began flipping through as the elevator door closed.

Contained within were several pages of text interspersed with grainy old photos and complicated diagrams. I squinted at a few of the photos, but couldn't clearly make them out.  They just looked like bright blurry lights or vague human figures. They reminded me of atom bomb testing photos from the 60s. 

Within the paragraphs I read were some explanations of things I already understood--LCL liquid breathing and the Synchronization Tests--with other information that was apparently related but completely foreign to me. There were details on the Second Impact, something called "Angels", and frequent mention of "Evangelion Units and Unit-Avatars". The folder was so dense with information that I probably wouldn't absorb any of it without sitting down to study. It all seemed so important, but every word went over my head. 

I turned to Dr. Akagi after perusing the folder for several minutes, surprised that we were still riding the elevator, but glad that to take the chance to ask questions.

"Um...," I said, finally breaking the silence. "...What is...all of this about, exactly What are we doing?"

"All of the necessary details are contained within that. I strongly recommend you finish it quickly, as you will not be allowed to take it out of the building."

"Can you give me a summary for right now? It's kind of...dense."

"...I could try." Dr. Akagi said, before asking, "Firstly, do you understand what Synchronization Harmonics pertain to?"

"Um...they have to do with...neural connections and stuff?"

"...The Synchronization Ratios are a measure of how well a person can connect to, interact with, and control an Evangelion Unit."

"O...kay. What's an Evangelion Unit?"

Dr. Akagi glanced at me without moving her head, her eyes peeking down at me from the side of her glasses. She sighed, "Do you know what Angels are?"

I paused before responding, in an effort to dig up the offhanded information I remembered about them from grade school. "Um...Angels are those things that caused the First and Second Impacts, right?"

"Yes, that's right. Angels are largely unidentified creatures, but confirmed as extraterrestrial. So far as we can tell, from the Impacts, they are harbingers of destruction and catastrophe. There is imminent threat of another Angel Impact in the near future, and the Evangelion is a solution to that problem."

"So...NERV thinks that more Angels will attack?"

"We are certain that they will, based on data collected several decades ago. NERV as an organization was founded on the existence of such data. The tests we have conducted on you and the other participants are to handpick those capable of piloting the Eva Units."

"Wh-when is the attack supposed to happen?"

"We cannot say for certain, though there is no reason to worry at the moment."

I could tell by her tone that she wasn't telling me everything, but too afraid to dig any deeper into her explanation. I was incapable of understanding the gravity of what she told me, either way. To think of a disaster like that happening within my lifetime was impossible to believe, and that I might have a hand in it somehow was even more so.

"I still don't understand what an Evangelion is, though." I said.

"Evangelion Units--Evas for short--are armored entities capable of fighting Angels in hand-to-hand combat. Or rather, as hand-to-hand as combat between humans and Angels can get, all things considered. Since Angels tend to be quite massive, our tools against them have to be equal in size."

"So...they're like Gundams?"

"What are Gundams?" Dr. Akagi asked, turning her head fully toward me now.

"They're giant..robots...f-from a show..." I muttered, embarrassed at having said that aloud.

"Ah, I see," her puzzled expression relaxed, though her tone remained flat. "If that helps you understand the concept, then you can compare them that way. In any case, to prepare for the task of piloting an Eva Unit, you will perform a few synchronization tests with an Evangelion Unit Avatar, or EUA. It will act as a proxy between you and the Eva Unit--it is safer at this point than trying to connect you directly."

After what seemed like forever, the elevator slowed to a halt and its doors slid open. Spread out before us was pure darkness with only a single blinking light in the distance. When Dr. Akagi stepped out of the elevator, the sharp sound of her heels bounced around in ways that made the room feel massive. I stepped out after her and followed behind, glancing over the file again with more dedicated interest.

As we moved, floodlights tripped automatically and illuminated a wide metal platform on which we walked; several meters across and probably a half-kilometer in length. On either side of us was a vast lake of water that I only saw out of the corner of my eye at first. At this passing glance my curiosity got the better of me and I meandered near the railing to peer into the water. A closer, however, look showed me this substance was far too blue to be water. It also had an acrid smell to it like vinegar and bile. Despite its translucency, I couldn't make out much beneath the surface, except for a vast, shadowy clump near the bottom.

We proceeded through a pair of sliding doors at the end of the platform and walked through a smaller, carpeted hallway that felt a lot more normal.

"What was that blue liquid?"

"A preservative that keeps the EUA bodies sterile while in storage," she said, already looking at her clipboard again. "It also halts any deterioration of the EUA's tissues."

That raised more questions than it answered, so of course I asked, "Deterioration? Why would they deteriorate? I thought they were robots."

"...That answer would require me to go into some very complex information that I'm certain you wouldn't want to hear. In layman's terms, EUAs are temporary, incomplete Evangelion Units from early development phases. Since they share a lot of structural similarities to the Evas, they are useful for simulating the size and scale of a complete unit's movement. In fact, the tests conducted today will introduce you to the specific locomotive functions of an Eva Unit.

"The increase in tests over the past few weeks, as well as the extensive screening process," Dr. Akagi continued, approaching yet another keypad at the end of the walkway, with yet another metal door to be opened. "Have all been to prepare you for this next step in the research study. Your father will be personally overseeing the direct-dive test from the Command Center."

I was about to ask her what a "direct-dive" was, but the weight of what she said settled on my shoulders before I could get the words out. Her mention of my father came so unexpectedly that it made my head spin. I couldn't even react, it was just a new piece of information I was going to have to deal with. Dr. Akagi never paused in her walking or clipboard-flipping, leading me through a glass hallway perpendicular to the platform we had left. At the end of the glass hallway was a white chamber almost identical to the Test Capsule chamber I was used to. The main difference was the size of it, presumably to accommodate the structure in the middle of the room. It was much larger than the Test Capsule, and shaped like a thin cylinder with divets and panels all along the surface. It looked like a gigantic pill that had just been deposited in the center of this room, with the words "EVA-01 TEST PLUG" emblazoned on one side.

"This is the Entry Plug," Dr. Akagi explained "It works much the same as a Test Capsule, and the procedures run will be similar to what you are used to in your routine synchronization tests. We'll be here a bit longer though, doing some basic motor function tests and collecting harmonics data."

I nodded, almost stepping forward to enter the plug, but realizing I was still holding my discarded clothes and the green folder she gave me. I assumed I  wasn't allowed to take those things in with me, so I asked, "Where should I put these?"

"There is a receptacle on the wall there." she said, pointing to the far right wall where there was indeed a silver drawer recessed into the wall. I nodded and set my things down into it. She then approached the entry plug and pressed a button on the side; with a hiss of air, the curved door swung upward and showed a blue inner chamber within which was a cushioned seat. It looked almost exactly like the inside of a Test Capsule, like she said. The few differences, from what I could tell, were in the two arm rests on either side of the chair. Where in the Test Capsule these just had simple sensory bars like joysticks protruding from the sides, inside the Entry Plug was an entire panel of lights and readouts. Where the sensory bars might be were two trigger-like mechanisms with buttons at the top and ridges for gripping. 

I ducked down and peered more closely into the Entry Plug. The interior was large enough that I could practically walk around inside. I had to keep my head bent low as I entered, but was able to shuffle toward the chair almost upright. I sank into a little, pleasantly surprised at how comfortable and warm it was.

"Hold onto the triggers on either side of you for the duration of the test," Dr. Akagi said, leaning into the Entry Plug while I got myself situated. "Think of them as sensory bars like in the Test Capsule. And please do not press any buttons unless and until instructed to do so."

I did as she told me to and held onto the metal grips nestled in each plastic casing. When I shifted in the chair, they shifted with me. I could tug them backward, and even lift them up with my arms. They were lighter than they looked, and there was something kinda fun about twisting them around.

"The test will run for approximately two hours. Afterward, we will have the customary evaluation, and you will be given some time to finish reviewing the file I gave you before departing. Any questions?"

"I don't think so." Of course I had questions. I had thousands of questions. I just avoided asking an of them, because I didn't want to sit through more explanations that I couldn't understand. I figured I would be told whatever was important, and just try to read over the file she gave me again. 

"Wonderful. The test will begin momentarily."

With that, Dr. Akagi stepped back and the Entry Plug door swung closed. It sealed itself with another hiss of air, and I was left alone in the chamber. It was very quiet inside the plug, but not nearly as oppressive as the silence I felt in the test capsule. Waiting for instructions didn't feel as agonizing. It was quite relaxing to just sit there; the tiny lights and sounds made it feel less lonely, the increased space was much less stifling, the seat in which I rested was softer and more pliant, and the triggers at my fingertips were easier to grip than the stiff metal bars of the Test Capsule.

"Shinji, can you hear me?" Dr. Akagi's voice came in somewhere off to my side. I glanced over to a SOUND ONLY screen that appeared when she spoke.

"Yeah...pretty well, actually." Apparently the sound equipment within the Entry Plug was higher quality as well. Even the SOUND ONLY graphic display was more crisp and bright, like an LED display.

"Hiya, Shinji! Misato here, haha. Good luck on your first dive-test!" Misato's voice came up on my other side, which surprised me initially. She had never spoken to me while inside of a capsule before, and sounded a lot more lively than when I left her, which made me feel better. Overall, things seemed to be going pretty well, and I was much less intimidated by this new test than when I first walked in.

"We're about to begin," Dr. Akagi said now. "Relax and remember what I told you, Shinji."

A steady whirring sound rose around me and grew gradually louder for a few seconds. After awhile, I felt a jolt in the entire Entry Plug that tossed me up in my seat briefly. Another followed it, and then another, and another, the rhythm of which rocked me forward and backward several times. A grinding sound gave me some notion of movement outside of the plug, though I wasn't sure what exactly was being moved. After several moments of this, the entire Entry Plug was tilted forward. My stomach sank with the motion. I couldn't see anything but the capsule walls around me and the triggers in my grip. I held them more tightly as things continued to shift.

"Entry Plug has been inserted. The chamber will fill with LCL momentarily." Dr. Akagi explained while I was manhandled by this invisible force.

"Inserted? Into wha--" I tried to speak, but my words came out thick and uncertain as I started to feel nauseous. The rocking was so strong that it jostled my insides and made me dizzy. I was already trapped inside of a giant metal tube, so any questions I had would have been useless at that point.

The rocking finally ceased with a large metal clicking sound, as if two massive objects had been latched together. The interior lights shifted through a spectrum of colors before fading into fluorescent white. After that, moisture began to crawl up my legs, and I knew this to be LCL slowly filling the Entry Plug. I looked down and saw the familiar churning mass of orange fluid rise towad me.

It was surreal to actually watch the area being filled. The Test Capsule was too small for me to actually see the LCL beneath me, so I usually just went by the feeling. I held my breath as it rapidly approached my face, because it looked and felt more like liquid than what I was used to. Once I remembered how the process was supposed to go, I opened my mouth to swallow a gulp of the liquid and begin forcing myself to breathe.

I was expecting the usual initial struggle in my lungs, but to my surprise this LCL was a lot thinner and easier to breathe. There wasn't the feeling of suffocation with the first swallow; it went down as easily as cool water, only into my lings. I exhaled a billowing cloud of bubbles and coughed, more from surprise at how seamless the adjustment was.

"Connecting to main power," Dr. Akagi began, her tone assuming its usual tone. "The lights will change again for a moment, Shinji, then you will have access to a visual projection of your surroundings."

As she said this, the white light gave way to yet another shifting prism. I was struck with a strong sense of vertigo as I looked into the space beneath me. The way the capsule converged made it look as if the colors were blooming from my feet. It felt as if I were falling through different layers of reality, and the sinking stomach feeling grew worse.

"Commencing Secondary Contacts. A-10 nerve connection normal."

Everything went blue again. It appeared as if the confines of the capsule had disappeared, a feeling that I was used to. I could see bubbles rising on either side of me that didn't come from my mouth or nose. Colossal wires hung from above and obscured part of my view. I realized that I was indeed looking at my surroundings, but they were hazy and deep blue because I was underwater. Or, more specifically, beneath the sea of preservative that I passed minutes before with Dr. Akagi.

"Calibrating language configuration to Japanese. All preliminary contacts have now been established."

I exhaled again, and another stream of bubbles tickled my face. Even though I didn't feel submerged in liquid anymore, I briefly imagined that I was really breathing underwater. It almost made the process fun, and I managed to chuckle a little once the nausea had passed.

"Bi-directional circuits open. Primary synchronization rate at 51.3%."

"You're doing great, Shinji." Misato said proudly.

"Thanks...this is a lot easier than I expected." I said, looking at the two SOUND ONLY boxes in my periphery, talking to the atmosphere since I wasn't sure which one belonged to her.

"We will continue monitoring your harmonics over the course of the test," Dr. Akagi said. "Though our priority here is motor functions, so let's get started with some simple exercises. I want you to think about lifting your right arm. As you do so, squeeze the trigger in your right hand."

"Okay, um, let's see," I looked down to get my bearings, but was immediately distracted by what I saw beneath me. "Woah, what...is that...?"

I was distracted from Dr. Akagi's instructions by shadowy mass beneath my fingers. I squinted to try and make it out, and my eyes adjusted to the light in a few moments to show a featureless mound that looked suspiciously like flesh. It was far too large to be human flesh, though, and it would be ridiculous for them to have a pile of human flesh at the bottom of a liquid preservative lake. I kept staring and trying to parse what I saw. The waviness of the water and the low light surrounding me made it a slow process, but the longer I stared, the more I could see.

"Oh my god..." The longer I stared, I realized what I saw was indeed flesh, though clearly not human; it was a skinless, sinewy torso stretched down into the liquid beneath me. Not only that, but it was moving minutely, twitching with a disturbing breath pattern that almost matched mine, which I noticed as my breath quickened. I looked to my sides frantically as if I would see anything reassuring, but it only made things worse. On either side of me I saw gigantic arms hanging limp, immobile, and misshapen, in a T-pose.

"Oh my god! There's something down there!? What is that?" I screamed, my grip tightening on the triggers and tugging them back reflexively.

"It's the EUA body, Shinji. We went over this." Dr. Akagi chided me, sounding vaguely annoyed.

"I thought you said they were robots! What's all of that...flesh and stuff!? What's wrong with its arms? Where are the legs!?"

"It's just a lifeless avatar. It may be surprising, but it's completely inert. Nothing more than a housing for your Entry Plug."

"That's completely different from what you said earlier! What does that even mean!?" My throat was starting to constrict, which made breathing more difficult. I started hyperventilating, watching as the massive viscera beneath me writhed faster. This grim vision moved the same way I did, and the thought alone made me want to vomit. My head was spinning and I felt violently nauseous as the smell of iron and raw meat filled my nostrils. That feeling of floating boundlessly in this previously serene space filled me with immeasurable dread.

"Oh god...I need to get out of here. I need to get out! Let me out of this thing!"

"Shinji, calm down," Dr. Akagi said more tersely. "Your pulse is increasing at an alarming rate."

"That's because I'm trapped in a pile of lifeless flesh in a giant tank of formaldehyde! Turn off the plug, open the hatch, whatever you have to do to! Stop the tests and let me go or I'm gonna--"

"Stop it, Shinji."

Another SOUND ONLY box blinked into the space in front of me, accompanied by a different voice from Misato's or Dr. Akagi's. It was deep and familiar, reflexively making my heart sink and throb in my stomach. I hadn't heard that voice in years, but reacted to it no less strongly than I always had. The SOUND box flickered away to a video feed.

A man with a heavy brow and stern, deep set frown stared at me unblinkingly. Even with his reflective glasses I knew the look of those eyes, and they chilled me to my soul. He was much thinner and more haggard than I remembered, but his expression and demeanor were the same.

"It's been awhile." He said, and even though I could see his mouth moving and hear the words coming out, it felt like a hallucination.

"D-dad..." I sat in silence for a long time, staring at him. I had no idea what to say, faced with him so suddenly, and the only sound came from bubbles that rose and popped around me. The blue lake outside the entry plug continued to shift, warping the light that poured through. I was only partly aware of the monster beneath me at that moment.

"Shinji, please resume the exerci--" Dr. Akagi started, but I cut across her.

"Dad, what's going on here!? What is this thing?"

"Dr. Akagi was tasked with giving you a comprehensive file on the nature of EUA-01 before the test," He said, completely bypassing the question. "I was under the impression that she had already done so."

"I...well, she did, but...she didn't....she didn't say anything about this."

"It is in the file, regardless of whether or not she mentioned it. The EUA is a simulation of the hypermassive entity Evangelion. Was that information not made available to you?"

"It was, but--"

"The fact that you did not listen to or retain it, then, is no one's fault but your own. There is no reason for this tantrum."

I closed my mouth and could feel my jaw clench. I knew I couldn't argue. I had to remember myself and who I was talking to; this man was responsible for my scholarship and academic career, and the entire reason I did these tests in the first place. Also, he was my father, even if only by name.

"My time is very valuable," He said finitely. "And I will not allow you to waste it by behaving this way. You are no longer a child, so I expect you to act accordingly. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." I spoke through clenched teeth. He said nothing in response, and his video screen flickered away. I looked down at my chest and inhaled deeply, closing my eyes to keep from seeing the EUA again.

"Are you ready to proceed, Shinji?" Dr. Akagi asked, completely immune to the delicacy of the situation.

I said nothing but looked up, staring straight forward and exhaling sharply. I figured a camera was in front of me, and that she could see my expression. She took the hint and carried on with the test instructions.

"Please visualize lifting your right arm, squeeze the trigger in your right hand while doing so. The goal is to move the EUA's right arm."

Spitefully, I closed my eyes and concentrated on moving my arm. Which turned out to be pretty difficult; one doesn't usually think about lifting their arm while not actually lifting it, so I wasn't sure how to go about following her instructions.  After a few seconds, I visualized reaching toward something: a cup, maybe. I thought really hard about reaching toward an invisible cup, and squeezed the trigger in my right hand. I could hear the muffled sound of water being displaced around me. Something large was moving beside me, and though my eyes were still closed, I knew it was the EUA's arm.

The EUA was so massive that I could hear its muscles tense even with involuntary flexes in my own arm. I felt the weight of its movements as if they were my own; they were heavy and sluggish, like being sore and hardly able to move. I tried very hard not to linger on that feeling.

"Very good." Dr. Akagi said. "Now, lower the right arm and do the same with the left."

I relaxed my grip on the trigger and imagined my right arm falling limp. Again, I felt the heavy thump of the EUA's arm in my own. I repulsed me so thoroughly I had to swallow down a hard retch. Repeating the same process with my left arm, the EUA responded a more quickly this time, the motion more fluid than before.

"You're really getting the hang of this, Shinji." Misato interjected with an encouraging tone. I said nothing still.

"Synchronization rate at 62.0%, increasing Entry Plug depth by two meters. Testing grip and fine motor skills next."

I awaited further instructions after this, but the pause was too long. Dr. Akagi cleared her throat and said, "You will need to open your eyes for this part, Shinji."

My eyebrow twitched, as that was the last thing I wanted her to say. There was nothing I would have liked more than to keep my eyes shut throughout the entire ordeal if I could help it. I briefly contemplated keeping them closed anyway, but knew I wouldn't be able to perform the way they wanted me to, which would only cause more problems for me. There was increased pressure to do well knowing that my father was physically present and actively watching. I opened my eyes and stared forward into the murky depths. Being lowered into the water by a large, mechanical apparatus was a series of rings attached to thick cords.

"Grip and pull the ring in front of with the EUA's hands, alternating between the right and left as I tell you to. First, the right."

I tried using the same process as before, but I was only able to lift the arm and couldn't get the fingers to move. I was also trying hard not to look at the hand itself, just keep the shape of it in my periphery. I lowered the arm to start from scratch; using the same mental image, I imagined lifting my arm and closing my fingers around the "cup" I reached for before. The arm rose with a sweeping motion, almost graceful if not so grotesque. A long hand with spidery fingers rose through the water and clenched tightly around the ring in front of me.

In order to pull it, though, I had to tighten the grip further and tug. I couldn't very well tug on a cup, even in a mental image, so I had to imagine something else. There weren't a lot of images of things to pull on that I could bring up. One that stuck out to me, somewhat outside of my control, was my father's head. It seemed strange for that image to come up, but the only thing I could imagine "pulling" was hair, and that sort of action was always a little violent. I imagined I had a nice, healthy tuft of my father's hair before me, in my grasp, and tugged it hard toward myself. Apparently the EUA's strength was reflective of this as well, because I ended up tearing the cord from which the ring was hung.

"Sorry." The word escaped me automatically, but there was no feeling in it at all. I just felt that an apology was the most appropriate thing to say right then.

"That's quite alright," Dr. Akagi said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "We will need to work on controlling the EUA's strength, but this promising sign of your skill if nothing else. Your synchronization ratio has also increased to roughly 74%. At that rate, the EUA must be detecting nuanced aspects of your cognitive commands."

The tests continued as such for ages afterward. I was forced to look at the sloping limbs of this massive creature for each new round, getting uncomfortably well acquainted with how it responded to my commands. It's movements were exaggerated under the water, and the feeling of controlling became more numb and foreign as I grew used to them. Nothing could compare to seeing and feeling movements that were not my own, as well as the sheer weight of this giant creature being at my mercy.

When the tests were over and the Entry Plug powered down, I was too perturbed to even feel relief. I just wanted to get out of it as soon as I was able to. I climbed out of the Entry Plug the moment the hatch was opened and walked away from it as quickly as possible. I changed my clothes in a frustrated hurry, not bothering to fold and set aside my plugsuit like usual. Just outside the chamber door was a NERV employee I had never seen before was standing, waiting for me. She wore a lab coat, so I assumed she was a scientist on Dr. Akagi's team. She held her clipboard close to her chest and addressed me shyly. She was probably new.

"Hi! I-I'm Maya, and I'll be escorting you to the Evaluation Roo--h-hey, wait, hold on," The girl began speaking, but I had already moved past her down the hall.  "Wait, y-you don't even know where it is!"

"I've probably been given the information at some point, right? I'll figure it out. Can't be clueless about everything the whole time I'm here, right?" I stopped for a moment to leaf through the green folder, pretending the read the pages. "Well, I can't seem to find the directions anywhere in this file. Looks like I'll just have to suck it up and just be okay with wherever it happens to be."

Maya was quiet, and her face went a little red with confusion. I could tell she had no idea what to do or say, but I was too busy being passive aggressive to stop.

"U-um...it's the fifth door on the left, number 342, but--wait, please," Before she had finished, I started walking down that way, looking at the numbers on the rooms. "I'm supposed to accompany you there!"

"Oh no, don't trouble yourself. I think I can manage." It was only a few yards down the same hall, which begs the question of why I needed accompaniment in the first place. I was even still within Maya's sight while she jogged haphazardly to catch up to me. My best guess was that my father and Dr. Akagi assumed I wouldn't take kindly to what had just transpired in the Entry Plug, and expected me to do something significantly more rash. Not that more rash things didn't occur to me, I just wasn't bold enough to do anything about them. The most I could muster was being petty to an innocent bystander like Maya.

I opened the evaluation room door and was presented with an empty conference room. Maya entered soon after, and stared at me awkwardly while I was seated. Technically her job was done, since I was in the room and she had more or less escorted me there. Dr. Akagi appeared a few minutes later, muttering something to Maya who nodded quickly and hurried away.

"I apologize for the delay," Dr. Akagi said, closing the door behind her and pulling up a chair near mine. "Terminating the Entry Plug harmonics programs takes a bit longer than with the test capsules, and I hadn't expected you to leave so quickly."

"I didn't want us to fall any farther behind schedule." I said immediately, staring her straight in the eyes. My hands were clenched in my lap and it was everything I could do to keep from saying more than that little quip. Dr. Akagi stared at me with an unreadable expression, before setting down her clipboard and taking out a pen. Immediately, she started scribbling.

"Based on your harmonics and proficiency you displayed with controlling the EUA, it is likely that you will be matched to an Evangelion Test Unit in the coming weeks." Dr. Akagi said, never pausing in her writing.

"I assume details on that nonsensical string of words is contained in the file you gave me, right?"

"Correct." Dr. Akagi said, either not catching or just purposely ignoring my sarcasm. "You have until you leave the facility to finish reading the file. I am also obligated to inform you that footage of your synchronization tests has been viewed by two subjects active in the Participant Interaction Project."

"Two? I thought there were only two people in the program in total?" I asked, forsaking my bitter attitude for curiosity.

"The Second Child, Asuka Sohryu Sazanami, has joined the Project as its third subject. I am sure you remember her."

"Asuka...the really angry one with the red hair?"

"Yes."

"Was she happy to find out that I didn't 'beat' her, or whatever?"

"She didn't react to it much. Apparently it didn't come as a surprise," Dr. Akagi said, setting her pen down. "Though she has now set her sights on the Fifth Child, Kaworu Nagisa, for obvious reasons."

"Good for them," I said. It had been awhile since I had thought about Kaworu, and on top of everything else that day it was a bit much to deal with. "So is this what the evaluation is about, now?"

"... I was going to ask you some questions about your mental and emotional state, but...to be frank, I am usually able to fill in the blanks based on your performance during the tests. Today is no real exception." She responded cryptically. I wasn't sure if she was referring to my actual performance, or the way I reacted to the things that happened.

"I think we are done for now," Dr. Akagi stood and rested one hand in her pocket, clutching the clipboard in the other. "Major Katsuragi will be joining you momentarily, and you two are free to leave whenever you are ready, provided that you leave the file and all related contents behind."

She left without another word, and I turned my attention to the green folder. I guessed that Misato was hovering around outside the doorway by the way Dr. Akagi left the room, pausing for a fraction of a second to stare off to one side, before walking in the opposite direction.

When I finished pouring through the entire file and left the room, I saw Misato leaning against the wall with her eyes closed, arms crossed and face set into a quiet frown. She said nothing as I walked out, and we both started off toward the elevator at the end of the hall. The ride back to the train station was almost completely in silence. Misato didn't turn the radio on like usual, and I could hear her tapping the steering wheel while she drove. Even though I was looking at the window, I could tell that she was casting me sideways glances long before she finally spoke up.

"Shinji...how do you feel about the direct-dive tests?" She asked, after about ten minutes of this.

"Should I use the scale or just try to ballpark it?" I didn't even blink as I spoke.

"Okay fine, point taken," Misato huffed. "You know they're for an important cause though, right? I'm sure Dr. Akagi explained that much to you."

"I guess."

"I'm serious, Shinji. You're going to be part of something really big...way bigger than how you feel about it, or even how shitty your dad has been about telling you things. Not a lot of people can do what you're doing, and we've done all we can to prepare you for it."

"By stuffing me in a sensory deprivation tank and mumbling numbers at me? Or letting me watch videos of other people stuffed in sensory deprivation tanks while numbers are mumbled at them? Or meeting those people only to find out that they're angry and cryptic savants who know more about these stupid tests than I do? Oh, wait... maybe, it's upgrading me to a bigger sensory deprivation tank that gets drilled into a skinless monster drowning in embalming fluid. Sorry I didn't appreciate the thoroughness of your approach, I probably just got lost in the process somewhere."

"You're missing the whole point," she said, shaking her head. "The role you play in this isn't a comfortable one, I get that. There's a lot you weren't told and a lot you don't understand, and it was all dumped on you at once. Your dad is an asshole, and Ritsuko's not much better, but we all learn to live with it because the work we're doing is important. You can bitch and moan all you want, but don't forget that this is all for a purpose. You're helping to ensure the safety of humanity, that's a bigger deal than being scared for a few minutes."

Hearing it said like that, I started to feel incredibly selfish. It didn't help me feel any better about any of it, but I was able to see beyond myself long enough to realize how important it was. Information from the file Dr. Akagi had given me bounced around in my head, amplified by what I saw while in the Entry Plug. Instead of continuing to express how irritated I was, I just went silent. Part of me was still angry that I was being bossed around, but there was no good reason for me to back out now, however much I wanted to. I knew that things would only get worse as far as my tests went, so I decided at that point that I would hold my tongue and simply do as I was told.


End file.
